Brothers Grimm
by Emerald-Leaves
Summary: Little Germany is lost and doesn't know what's happened to him. When things seem hopeless, he meets a hero. Follows the lives of the German brothers from 1806 to after the Reunification of Germany. Human names used.
1. Prologue

**Prologue:**

_What happened? Where am I? _Were the first questions that naturally sprang into his mind while he wandered around through the misty forest. He was alone and afraid. He could not remember how he had gotten into this situation at all or what he had been doing prior to entering into this predicament! In fact, he did not even recall his own name…

Night was falling and the sun was setting in the west. Fear gripped his heart anew as he glanced around the darkening forest about him. Tears welled up in his icy blue eyes when the nightly creatures began coming out of their hiding and into the cooling dusk air. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he frantically looked around, trying to identify the terrifying sounds that rumbled and twittered around the woods.

Unable to think of anything else, the small child ran. He did not know where he was going or what he was doing exactly, but he knew he had to get out of the forest. Nothing ever good turned out for someone who wandered alone in the dark, of that he was certain. Everything else be damned!

He tore through the woods, not stopping or slowing down. He felt unusually small and weak, his head began to spin and it was hard to keep up such physically exertion. But no matter how much he wanted to stop, how his lungs screamed or his legs protested, he did not stop running. He could not. He tripped and fumbled, but never fell completely down. He wanted to get out of this forest! He wanted to go home! The only problem was he did not know where _home _was, or if he had ever had a home…

At last, the lighting began to change, and he knew he was coming out of the forest. Tears of utter joy spilled from his eyes as he pushed himself a little bit harder, wanting to reach safety just a little bit sooner. But what he found once he escaped the dreaded forest was hardly comforting.

Once out of the woods, the child's eyes widened in horror. While he was out of the foreboding forest, he had come to find the carnage of an old battlefield. Shocked, the boy tried to turn back and flee into the forest, but changing directions that quickly was never a good idea. Instead, he found himself slipping and falling to the ground.

He landed with a hard _thud _upon the dewy grass. He ended up splitting his lip from the impact of hitting the ground, but that was not his primary concern. Sitting up as fast as he could, the little boy began crawling away backwards, closer to the forest he had only a moment before escaped.

What had happened here? What was going on! He could not remember anything that had happened to him, nor could he recall hearing anyone fighting. Was that why he had run into the woods to begin with? Had he found this horrific site before?

Scared to go out into the field, scared to go back into the forest, the little boy found himself trapped. Praying silently, the child wished that his guardian would come and save him from this terrible nightmare. But then another question rose; had he ever had a guardian? A parent? Had there ever been someone out there to care for him, protect him?

There was nothing else he could do but stay put, he decided. Although he was frightened and cold, he was smart enough to know that if someone was going to happen upon him, it would have to be here, at the forest's edge. No one in their right mind would venture into that dark, forsaken woods, and they might come closer to the battle field out of curiosity. If he just stayed put, he was certain someone would happen upon him…eventually.

Shivering and sniffling, the child laid down upon the ground and curled in around himself to try and stay warm. Maybe if he closed his eyes he would wake up and find out all of this had just been some sort of terrible dream, and he would wake to see an adult sitting beside him, reassuring him that everything was all right and it had only been a nightmare. Maybe, just maybe, if he closed his eyes, everything would be all right…

* * *

**Author's Note: **...so yeah...this is the start of what I hope to be a nice little ficlet about my two favorite characters in Hetalia. Please tell me if you're liking it so far or not. It's just an idea that won't leave me in peace, so I had to write it down. If it's crap, tell me so nicely. ^_^ Thanks everyone!


	2. Chapter 1: Hero

**Chapter One: Hero**

Waking up stiff and cold was not something that he liked doing, but nevertheless, he found himself in that particular situation. Sitting up, rubbing his eyes, the small boy looked around himself, feeling groggy and not quite aware of his surroundings. He woke to find his head was pounding mercilessly and his vision did not seem quite right at first. He felt weak and his stomach let out a loud rumble, protesting about having not been fed in…well awhile. Truth be told, he did not remember the last time he had eaten anything.

Yawning and stretching, the little boy stood, trying his best to focus on where he was and what was going on around him. He heard several birds singing in the treetops. The wind blew gently, kissing his face and rustling his pale golden hair. The world seemed calm and peaceful, but that was not exactly what the child saw before him.

He was starving, he knew he was. Not being able to remember when he had last eaten was a bad sign, he knew, and it became his mission to find something edible. The only problem was that before him, in the open field, were corpus of hundreds of rotting soldiers, all of them bloodied and mangled. Behind him was the dark forest that scared him. Although he could not even recall his own name, he was certain that devils lived in the woods behind him and it was never wise to travel in such a place alone.

Biting his bottom lip worriedly, the boy could have screamed in utter frustration. What was he supposed to do? To go forward would mean that he would have to see the fallen, going back meant that he might get lost or attacked by some vicious animal. The answer soon became clear: what was he more afraid of? Was it the dead or the possibility of becoming dead?

The child balled his fists up in resolve and took a deep breath. There was nothing for it. He had to get away from this place—wherever "here" really was—and he had to find something to eat. That being the case, he decided to march forward. God would forgive him his trek amongst the dead surely since it was a matter of life and death. So, making the sign of the cross, the child began his sure to be long advance across the field of the dead.

**oOoOoOo**

Hours had past, maybe in reality half the day, but still the child labored on, covering his face as best as he could as he picked his way carefully through the sea of corpses. The smell was horrendous, and it soon became apparent that these fallen soldiers had been lying in that field for longer than the boy had first suspected. The faces of most of the soldiers had already been eaten away, whether it was from the elements or by animals or by both, the boy didn't know, but one thing was certain, he had never been more repulsed in his life.

For the first hour or so he had actually purged several times, unable to stand the stench. He had been horrified with himself for his actions, for disgracing the dead so, that after he had made it of prime importance to say little prayers every so often and make the sign of the cross. After all, he had not meant to violate the dead, he just could not help feeling sick from the odor!

Looking up into the clear, blue sky, the boy felt a drop of sweat run from his forehead down his face. Where the night before had been so cold, the day was hot, much warmer than he would have suspected for this time of year. His throat burned and he was desperate for water. His head began to swim once more and he wondered vaguely what would happen if he just fell over dead. Surely this would be a good place to die, amongst the fallen? No one would think anything strange if they saw him lying there with the fallen men. They would probably just tally him up with the soldiers and wonder dimly how it came to be that a boy died with so many men.

But the thought made him ill and he was disgusted with himself for his weakness. He was not the type of person that gave in easily…at least, he didn't think he was. Something told him that to give up without a fight was shameful and was not worthy of him. He had to keep moving on or he was sure to parish. So stubbornly, he did just that.

Trying to distract himself from the thought of being surrounded by such carnage, the child decided that he would count in his head as high as he could go. It was not the most exciting thing he had ever done, he was sure, but it would do for the time being. It was something, after all, and as long as he focused on that and not the fact that he had just seen a horse that had been disemboweled, that was fine with him.

Step by step, inch by inch he carried on; his counting had soon given way to marching. Left, left, left right left. Focusing on that helped him concentrate on moving forward. Strangely, advancing such as he was, was in a way, quite calming. There was something familiar in his movement, as though he had done it before. The memory—if memory it really was—was hazy, and he was not certain if he had really done it or not, but at the moment he did not think about "had I" or "had I not" in attempt to simply get the hell out of this place!

He was so very close, he just knew it. He would glance up every so often to check on his progress before looking back down at his feet, to make sure that he didn't step on anyone. There were just so many bodies, he could hardly believe it! In the back of his mind he wondered what had happened to all of these men. Something extraordinary must have occurred to have killed so many. On the other hand, he did not really want to think about all of these poor souls all that much. Should he become sentimental over the fallen he knew that he would never make it out of this mess.

The little boy carried on, picking his way carefully, his throat still painfully dry and his stomach cramping. The sun felt much hotter than it had before, warning the child that it was probably midday. The remains of his flimsy, dirty white shirt clung to his back by sweat, and he could feel his face heating up.

He began to pant. He could not help it. If he only had a little bit of water, he was sure that he would be all right. He could find food later, if only he had a little water! He was in hell, he just knew it. There was no other explanation for how he was feeling and what was going on. He would have actually cried out to Lazarus and beg for water had his throat not hurt so terribly if he could have.

There was a moment when he believed he would never get out of that field. From the heat and the smell off the corpses, to his own thirst, the child was certain that he would fall victim to the world the same as those around him. His head continued to throb ruthlessly, and he began to stumble.

For a single moment, the boy decided that he did not care anymore, that all he wanted to do was sit down, perhaps lie down, and never get up again. It would be so easy! He wouldn't have to worry about water or food if he were dead. Hopefully, God would be merciful and forgive him whatever sin he had committed here on earth to be forced to wander so aimlessly around in hell, and he would get to go to Heaven. It was a lovely thought, one that calmed the boy's racing heart and stilled any tears that had thoughts of escaping.

With his new plan set, the child looked around for an empty spot of earth where he could lie down and die. However, none became apparent. The whole terrain now seemed covered with bodies and another ominous forest lurking darkly ahead. There was not even a small space for him.

It wasn't fair! The situation was entirely unfair! He nearly stomped his foot, ready to throw a tantrum, until his head began to swim from the rush of anger. The flash of fury had him almost to his knees; his head was pounding so terribly. It seemed that for whatever reason God did not want him to die out here. It really seemed a cruel sort of game, but who was he to question the Almighty?

With nothing else to do, the child continued on his way. He tried not to think about how the sinister forest ahead of him seemed to be the only thing waiting for him on the other side. There had to be something else to look forward to… Perhaps there was someone in this forest? Maybe when he got to the edge of the woods, there would be someone waiting for him there? Maybe they could take him home?

Under normal circumstances, he would have scoffed and said that childish fantasies were a waste of time and energy, but at the moment, he needed some kind of hope, and allowed himself to dream. It would be so lovely if his fantasy would come true though! He could just image it; there would be a man standing there waiting for him, asking him if he was all right and that he had been so worried. Then that man would lead him off into a clearing where there would be a table filled with food and drink all ready for him! And perhaps there would be other children there to play with?

Focusing back down at his feet, the boy was startled when he discovered that he was no longer in amongst the bodies. Looking up, he beheld the mighty forest that had seemed only moments ago to loom so far ahead. After all that struggling, after all that labor, he had finally made it to the other side…

He visibly sagged with relief and soon fell to the ground, basking in the glorious shade. He was so tired and he hurt terribly, but at least he had made it out of the corpses. He decided that thanks were in order, and prayed once more, so happy to be out of the heat and the smell. But as thrilled as he was about that, he could not help but be a little disappointed. There was no one here to greet him like he had imagined. The more rational part of his mind scolded him, reminding him that he had been acting childishly to think such things to begin with, but the other part could not still the regret that leaked into his heart.

Sitting up, the boy looked around. This side of the field looked just like the other side, as far as he was concerned. There were trees and rocks and birds. Was this all that was out here? He did not wish to believe that he had flirted with death so he could realize that it had all been in vain! He _refused _to believe that!

It took a moment or so to calm himself back down. Becoming frustrated never solved anything, and he had to think clearly if he was going to survive this ordeal. He sat a moment longer and closed his eyes taking deep breaths. That was better. Now that he could think…

Something in the distance caught his attention. He closed his eyes and listened, willing his ears to pick anything around him. Besides the wind blowing through the leaves and their bird song, there was something else. It was loud and yet fit into the background noise so perfectly. He could recall hearing it before, but he could not quite remember where. But it was very familiar…

_Water! _The boy's eyes snapped open when the realization struck him. It was water! There was a river or stream or something out there! Perhaps he had been too hasty to welcome death after all! If there was water out there, then he was sure he could gain back a bit of strength and search for something to eat. Yes, he could do this; he just had to be more optimistic.

Getting to his feet was a bit of a challenge, not eating for however long he had gone without food, but his excitement outweighed his fatigue, and soon the boy was up and running away towards the sound of the water. He ran so fast that he hardly noticed the sticks and the thorn bushes scrapping and cutting his legs and arms, nor if he would have noticed, he would not have cared much. All that he was interested in was that there was water up ahead of him and he could finally sooth his aching throat.

About a mile into the forest, the child finally found what he had been searching for. Before him was a small river running through the woods. The water looked clean and good as it gurgled on happily through the hot day. Wholly delighted, the boy rushed to the river and knelt down before the water's edge. He reached into the clear water with cupped hands and shivered in delight at the coldness. Closing his eyes, waiting in pleasurable anxiousness, he brought the water to his split and cracking lips and swallowed the clear water down.

It had tasted just as wonderful and sweet as he thought it would. But he wanted more. Desperate, the child scooped his hands back into the water yet again trying his best to get as much as his little hands could hold before bringing it up quickly to his mouth. It was not enough. Again and again with fretful motions, the boy drank as much as his hands could hold. But again, it was not enough.

Throwing caution to the wind, he leaned over the edge of the river and began drinking the water like a horse, not caring if he fell in. He was so thirsty and his stomach ached so, he just wanted it to be full. So he drank more and more until he couldn't any longer.

When he was finished, the boy sat back on the bank and felt his head swirl. Perhaps it had not been such a good idea drinking so much on an empty stomach. He felt suddenly quite ill and he was not sure he could get up again. Glancing around, the child could not hear or see any danger, and he was so tired! Sick and hungry, the boy decided that it would be all right for him to lie down a bit. And when his head hit the ground, he was fast asleep; exhaustion had overcome him at last.

**oOoOoOo**

When the boy woke again, it was dusk, and the forest was becoming dark. The sweet chirping of song birds were beginning to fade away as the night creatures were stirring. But unlike the night before, the child was not quite as scared as he had been then. Unlike the previous evening, he now had the sounds of the happy little river bubbling beside him. Whatever was out there, he would be all right…or so he told himself.

Looking around, the child was annoyed with himself for falling asleep for so long. He had not meant to. He had to keep moving on if he was ever going to get out of here. No one was going to save him, so he would have to save himself. That was just the way things were.

Once more, the task of standing was very troublesome and he was not sure he was up to it. His vision blurred, his head swimming, as child staggered around before he caught himself on what he assumed was a tree. And before he could steady his breathing, he found himself vomiting again. What else he really had in his stomach beside liquid was beyond him, but he purged anyway. He wished that something would happen to end his suffering. He did not want to live like this anymore, and he did not want to carry on anymore. He was tired and he hurt. Why was this happening to him?

After several minutes the boy had control over himself again, and he stood swaying on throbbing feet, his head feeling very tender. This was certainly the worst he had ever felt in his life! —or at least what he could remember of his life before waking up like this.

He knew he had to get somewhere safe before the night truly fell and it would be too dark to see anything. He knew he was lucky to have survived this long on his own in the forest. It was common knowledge that the woods were a dangerous place, one filled with wild animals. If one wasn't careful they would get lost and never be heard from again. Was that what had happened to him? Had he gotten lost?

There came a low, menacing growl from behind the boy, cutting off his quiet musings. He stood ridged and tense, waiting to see if he could hear the noise again. Unconsciously, the boy found himself picking up a solid stick. He wondered if he was going to have to fight. He did not remember having ever fought before, but feeling that stick in his hands made him more confident and it seemed _right _that he should have it. For a moment, his mind flashed and he wished he had a sword rather than a stick…

The rumbling came again, from the left of him this time. Fear spiked through his heart and he wondered what it could be that was out there. Glancing behind him he knew that it would be foolish to back himself up towards the river because then he would be trapped and helpless. Perhaps if he moved a little to the right he would be able to get away?

Before he could have lifted a foot, two large wolves jumped out of the brush, snarling and baring teeth. A horrified thrill shot through the child in that moment as he stood face to face with the two monstrous canines. Lifting up his stick, shaking uncontrollably, the child waited with chattering teeth for something to happen. Heaven above he wished all of this was just a dream! That it was all just some crazy nightmare and not reality!

When the smaller of the two wolves swiped at him, cutting into his tender arm, the child knew that it was no dream. Not thinking, the boy swung his precious little stick with all his might and hit the wolf upside the head, cracking his weapon while causing the canine to yelp in surprise.

The sudden attack seemed to have startled both beasts, and the boy used that to his benefit and ran for it. There was really no use in trying to outrun wolves, he knew that, but it was the only option he could think of at the moment. He had no weapon, no horse, no nothing to his advantage. He was weak and unwell and he hated himself for it. He vowed that should he somehow get out of this mess he would never allow himself to become this feeble again!

The surprise of the attack soon wore off on the wolves and they gave chase not much later. The boy was only a step ahead, and he could not keep up his furious pace for very long. The dogs were much swifter than he was. He tried zigzagging and turning sharply, but there was nothing else he could do. The wolves would get him soon, and he would have for face a death of being torn apart…

But just as the river had been a God-send for his thirst, up ahead was a tree with a low hanging branch. With a burst of power, the boy made for the tree. The wolves snapped and swiped at him from every side and the coarse vegetation wasn't doing him much good either, but he stubbornly refused to give up when he was so close. Pushing himself with all he had left, the boy jump and caught hold of the branch, and it was only due to an adrenalin rush that he was able to pull himself into the tree and scramble up higher into the branches.

Wheezing and exhausted, feeling unbelievably ill, the boy leaned back against the trunk of the tree and prayed he wouldn't get too dizzy and fall off the branch. The wolves stayed below, snarling and snapping at him, both jumping up, trying to figure out a way up the tree. Frightened, the boy closed his eyes and tried not to think about what was below him. If those wolves managed to find a way up then the child knew he was done for; he would be trapped.

Shivering despite burning up, the boy watched helplessly as the canines below showed no signs of ending their siege. This was it. Those beasts were either going to come up and kill him or he was going to end up falling out of the tree and then get killed by the wild animals. Neither sounded particularly pleasant, but idly, the boy wondered if his death would be any worse than getting stabbed and left to die in battle. At least the wolves would tear him apart fast enough so that he wasn't suffering too long, right?

The night was almost upon him, and the child knew that by morning he would be dead. He held no hope at all that he would survive this time. There was no way that he could. He was so small and pathetic that there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that he could possible beat back these wolves and get away. He had to remain calm and accept that death was upon him.

The boy closed his eyes tightly and waited. He would not give into his despair, but he would not lie to himself. So, patiently, he waited, waited to see what would become of him...

But a remarkable thing happened just then. While still sitting with his eyes closed, he heard one of the wolves let out a pained squeak. Snapping open his eyes, the boy looked around as best as he could with his failing eyesight in the darkness to find that one of the wolves had been knocked over and was whimpering slightly. Confused, the child found himself leaning forward a bit, making sure he had a hold of a strong branch, to see what was going on when it happened.

Out of nowhere, a man with a dark cap and large hat sprang out of the woods with a merry laugh. The man had in his hand a long, shining sword and was dressed in one of the finest outfits the child had ever seen. The dress looked like a military uniform, impeccable and beautifully made, and in that spectacular apparel was a tall, willowy man who stood with square shoulders and a straight back. He let out another hoot of laughter as he gazed upon the wolves.

Watching with wide-eyed wonder, the little boy in the tree could not help but be astonished as the man below stood with the wolves circling him without fear. The boy wanted to shout out "Be careful!" but his throat hurt too much from throwing up, and so he had to settle for silently watching from the tree tops, clasping onto the branches until his knuckles were white.

One wolf sprung at the man, trying to get at his arm, but with more poise than the child had ever seen before, the man simply side stepped and at the same moment, plunged his sword deep into the beast's side.

A hideous cry irrupted from the animal as it fell to the forest floor with a graceless _thud_. The man in the cape simply laughed and swished his sword around for show. "Come on you _mutt_, don't you want a taste of my blade as well?" he dared the other wolf.

To the child's utter astonishment, the second wolf, still growling low in its throat, began backing away, apparently unwilling to test this new threat. The hero of the day simply laughed again and lunged forward at the beast. "Come on! Come on!" he challenged, but the wolf would have none of it, and simply ran away with its tail between its legs.

"Ha ha!" the man cheered. "I knew you were too much of a coward to face _me!_" he called after the beast. "Because I _am_ the greatest!"

From the tree, the boy was silently agreeing. He had never seen a man with such bravery or such skills before! This man had single handedly taken out two ferocious wolves without even so much as unsettling his hat! This man was so great that the wild animals ran away from him in fear! This man was a hero.

"Now then," the man sheathed his sword, a cocky smile still upon his lips. "What kind of little game-bird have those mutts treed for me this time?"

The man looked up and the boy held his breath. Startled ruby eyes met with icy blue, and the man and boy simply stared at one another for a moment. It was apparent that whatever the man had been expecting up in that tree was certainly not a little boy, but in all honesty, the child had not been expecting a knight in shining armor, so to speak, to appear either.

It took well over a full minute for the man to regain his composure. When he did, he cocked his head to the side; a crooked smile appeared on his lips. "Well, well, well? What kind of little game-bird have we here?"

Although it was normally never a good idea to trust a complete stranger, the boy found himself trying to scramble out of the tree to get to the ground to meet the man. Besides, this man was no ordinary stranger in any case; this man had saved his life! This man was a hero!

* * *

**Author's Note: **Okay...so yeah. Our little man made it through the nasty field of corpses and survived the forest thanks to the hero. Just a little tidbit for those of you wondering what the heck a field of dead people had to do with anything. Well, as many of you might have already guess, Germany really was the Holy Roman Empire. Right before the Empire was dissolved, there had been a lot of fighting and battles and all kinds of bloodiness going on in that period. Those states within the HRE sort of banned together in the end and became Germany. Our little one in the story sort of fades in and out of reality at first (that's why he can't remember who he is) and the field is just my way of showing his bloody past...Plus I just thought it was kinda interesting to write...

For those of you wondering about the guy I mentioned earlier in the story, Lazarus, and are wondering what he has to do with anything, I was referring to a Biblical story where a poor man named Lazarus and a selfish rich man both die. Lazarus goes to Heaven, the rich man to hell. The rich man begs for Lazarus to give him a drop of water. Tada! There you go! If you want to know the whole story you can look in the Bible at Luke 16:19-31. This will probably be the last time I use a Biblical reference like this again...so yeah...if you were wondering about that, there you go.

But now we're got a new character come to save the day! Please drop me a review if you liked anything about this. I'd love to hear from you. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 2: Prussia

**Chapter Two: Prussia**

"Well, well, well? What kind of little game-bird have we here?"

As quick as he could, the little boy scrambled out of the tree he had been sheltering in and managed to climb down without harming himself. He was ecstatic that someone had found him at last, and despite feeling weak and sick, he thought that this was perhaps the best moment of his life. For the first time that he could ever remember, he had had a dream come true.

Once he reached the ground, however, the child became suddenly shy. The man standing before him was quite tall and looked quite bulky with his nice cape and his hat. Truth be told, the boy wondered if he should even be in the presence of one so great as this man seemed to be. This man held himself with confidence and dignity. Being in his presence made the child feel even smaller and more worthless than he already thought himself to be. And because of his fears, he paused, just at the base of the tree, still several feet away from his hero.

The savoir of the day looked mildly interested in the boy standing before him and the child felt nervous, under the intense ruby gaze. It felt like he was under inspection. The boy watched in apprehension as the man's smile turned into a frown the more he studied. The child flinched when the man made a move, but all that the man did was simply take off his hat. Almost immediately after he did this, a small, pudgy little yellow bird flew towards him and nestled on his head lovingly.

The boy was surprised when he came to realize the other had frosty white-blonde hair that seemed to glow in the night. The white hair stood out in contrast to his ruby red eyes, and the grin that returned to his face was enough to make anyone squirm uncomfortably. But despite all of his fear, despite being intimidated, the child remained where he was and simply stared up at his hero.

Once the man settled his hat underneath of his arm, he turned his full attention back to the boy. "And who are you, little bird?" His voice was meant to be kind, the boy supposed, but it had a sharpness to it that he feared.

Unable to stop himself from trembling, the boy found himself shaking his head. He tried to respond, but his throat was still raw, and a terrible noise came out instead when he first tried to speak. The red-eyed man scowled at this, but remained silent as the child tried desperately to find his voice. "I-I don't…know," he managed to choke out.

Whatever answer the man had been expecting, it did not appear that he had been anticipating_ that _particular one. His scowl deepened ever so slightly, and the child began to fear that his hero really wasn't that much of a hero at all. Perhaps this man was actually a villain?

But whatever the red-eyed man was actually thinking of the child, he did not show it as he stood up a bit straighter and looked down his nose at the child, a superior glint in his eye. "Well, you might not know your own name, little bird, but surely you must have heard of _me_," he pointed dramatically to his chest, a charming sort of smile slipped onto the pale, roguish face.

This man seemed to be important, the boy could tell that, but he could not, for the life of him, recall anything about the man before him. The child was certain that he would have remembered a tall, white-blonde haired man with red eyes before had he ever met one! But no matter how hard he tried to think back, it seemed a door slammed shut in his face and would not allow him access inside.

Wincing at yet another stab of a headache, the boy shook his head. The pain and fatigue of his adventures were finally catching up to him and his body was shutting down. The last thing he would remember was the man's face as it turned from looking annoyed to panicked before unconsciousness took him.

**oOoOoOo**

With more speed than even _he_ would have given himself credit for, Gilbert lunged forward and caught the little boy before he hit the earth. "_UGH_!" Prussia let out a disgusted groan the moment the child hit his hands. The boy was filthy and smelled terrible, like he had been rolling around in a slaughterhouse. It was appalling, and upon closer inspection, the nation even discovered that the boy had the remains of crusted vomit on his shirt. "Disgusting!" he could not help but be repulsed. The little bird in his hair jumped up and flew away due to his master's agitation.

Someone as awesome and amazing as him shouldn't have to be seen with such a weak, sordid little thing like this boy, and Gilbert had half made up his mind to simply set the child down and go on his merry way, when his sharp eyes caught something else in the dark. Besides the dirt and the vomit, there was something else crusted onto the child: blood.

Horrified, the country found himself unable to leave the child in such a condition, even if the boy smelled like rotting flesh, and yet he did not want to be burdened with the boy either! It was getting late and he wanted to go home and have a full measure of beer and then go to sleep in his nice, warm bed. The last thing that he had planned on doing this evening was take care of an injured little boy that jumped out of a tree and smelled like shit!

Turning around, Prussia looked out into the woods, wondering if the kid's guardian or parent or someone would come and relieve him of this unwanted charge. "Seriously, anyone who wants this kid that's _not _a wolf can have him." Of course the only answer he got was when his little bird came back and sat on his head again.

Looking back down at the child, Gilbert's frustrated frown turned immediately back into worry. He laid the little one across his lap and began to more thoroughly inspect the child. The boy's knees were scraped and he had sustained scratched up and down his legs. There was a nasty looking wound to his left arm that looked suspiciously like a claw mark. "Damned mutts," Prussia muttered under his breath. There were a few cuts on his hands and arms as well, but they mostly looked like the boy had gotten into a thorn bush. The dried lips were cracked and split and overall there were bumps and bruises over the little body. Although Gilbert was no doctor, he knew that the child must have gone through hell. The only question that Prussia was unable to answer was why?

Scanning his ruby eyes around the forest again, Gilbert became desperate to find someone to help him— though, of course, he would not admit it to anyone out loud! Again he wished someone would just walk up to him and claim the child, leaving him free to go on his way, but even he knew that there was no use fooling himself like that. The reality was that he was stuck with this little boy until he could dump him off somewhere. Once that was done he would be able to go home and congratulate himself on how awesome and kind he was.

Lifting the limp tiny body into his arms, the nation began making his way to the river that he had found not all that far from where they were. It was almost impossible for him to walk without gagging every few steps. Really the child smelled dreadful and in between gags, he cursed. "You better—_ugh!_—appreciate me—_urgh_—_more_ after this, kid!" he muttered.

After an _eternity_ of walking, Gilbert finally made it to the river and knelt down. He refrained from both tossing the kid into the water to clean him off a little, and setting him down and running away so he could get a whiff of clean air again. It was hard, but Gilbert's self control was just that amazing.

"Great, I bet I smell like shit too," he grumbled.

Gilbert was about the set the boy down on the ground when the child gave a soft whimper, as though in pain. An unknown feeling came over Prussia then, and he sat frozen, unable to think. Well, he knew what _had _to be done in the simplest form, but this new feeling made him pause. In all honesty, he had never really gone out on a limb for anyone else before and he wasn't quite sure what all he was required to do as the saint for the day. Charity had never been high on his priority list before…

Why the hell was he doing this anyway? He didn't even know this kid at all, and here he was not only helping him, but nearly _worrying _about the brat! What was wrong with him? A kingdom as awesome as him did not have time to worry about other people, right? They didn't feel these weird, sad feelings when they came along little upstarts that couldn't make it in the real world…right?

In the end, and against his instincts, Gilbert's worry won over any of his lame excuses. Instead of simply setting the boy down upon the cold, hard ground, he took off his long, thick cap and set it down before placing the boy on top of it. "It's going to smell terrible after this," the ruby-eyed man sighed wistfully, but it was only half-heartedly done. If he would admit it to himself, he would come to realize that he was more concerned over the little game-bird. Besides, a cape could be washed or even thrown out, a life could not…though it was _his _cape, after all…

With the night promising to be a cool one, Gilbert shivered. Peering down at the little boy that had forced him to surrender his cape, Prussia, at first, felt a bit annoyed. Why was it that _he _had to give up what was his just because the brat didn't have enough sense to stay out of trouble? But all too swiftly, the annoyance turned into his new feeling: pity. He was cold, that was true, but didn't that mean that the little boy needed the cape that much more?

With a heavy sigh, the nation stood up and went to collect dried sticks and branches to get a fire going. It was not a particularly hard job to do, nor was it all that time consuming considering they were in a forest in the summer, but he still did not _like _performing these particular jobs; especially when he had to perform such manual labor for someone else! Had he not stopped to see what those wolves were after, Gilbert was sure he could be at home right then, enjoying his bed and his beer. How delightful that would be! But no, he just _had _to stop and see what was going on, and then he just _had _to stop and talk to the little brat.

From his hair, the pudgy bird seemed to know what his master was thinking, and pecked him hard on the forehead. "Ouch!" he yelped. "Stupid bird!" he growled, but deep down he knew he deserved it. After all, what kind of person thought about himself when there was a child in such grave need? Granted, Gilbert was probably the greatest nation and person in the whole wide world and deserved to be treated with respect and be adored by everyone, but even he knew that there were times when he could not always be first… though, those times were _very _few, this probably counted as one of those minimal times.

It was hard for Gilbert _not _to think of himself. He really was the most amazing person ever, and everyone knew it…they just didn't want to admit it sometimes. But he tried his best to channel all of his awesome generosity into helping out the little boy he had found. So, focusing on what he had to do, Prussia was able to make a fire without too much difficulty.

Once that business was taken care of he turned his attention back to the wounds that marred the unfortunate boy's skin. Taking out one of his own monogrammed handkerchief, Gilbert sighed sadly as he dipped it into the cold water. He knew he was going to ruin the poor handkerchief, but he tried his best not to think about that. He could always get a new one, right? ...he just hoped that it would be as grand as this one was…

After ringing the hankie out, Prussia carefully moved closer to the child and began washing away the caked blood around the boy's arm first. That seemed to be the worse wound sustained, and it could potentially turn deadly should it become infected. The _last_ thing Gilbert needed was to add guilt onto his already worried mind when none of what happened to the child was even his fault to begin with!

With the arm cleaned and ready, Gilbert took out his limited supplies of bandages and wrapped the injury up tight before he moved on to tend the other wounds. One task that he had _no _desire to do, yet he deemed necessary, was to take off the boy's shirt. The stench was horrendous for one thing, and it would not do the child's wounds any good if that shirt was carrying diseases on it and infected them. So, taking a deep breath, he cut off the shirt—he did not have the patience for unbuttoning it—and threw it as far away as he could.

"Gross," he glower over at the useless rag he had thrown away. "How could you have even stood the smell?" Of course the little boy did not wake up to answer his question, but for once, Gilbert was not too offended.

With the child as clean as he could get him, Gilbert wrapped the little one up in his cape and set him close to the fire for warmth. He sat back with a sigh and smiled to himself. He really was the greatest and most awesome person he knew. Who else would have worked so hard to help a boy they didn't even know out like that? He was just such a kind and considerate person. But that was to be expected from someone as humble and incredible as him.

Grinning stupidly, Prussia leaned back against a nearby tree and looked out into the dark night. His little pudgy bird hopped down from his head and into his hands. He began petting the tiny bird absentmindedly and turned his attention back to the little boy. Now that the child was all cleaned up and Gilbert could actually make out the color of the face and hair properly, there was something oddly familiar about the kid... Perhaps it was something about the eyes? No, it was the nose, Gilbert was sure he had seen the nose somewhere before…Actually, the blonde hair reminded him of someone as well. Who did he know with that pale of blonde hair and icy blue eyes?

Recognition struck Gilbert like a bolt of lightning. "Holy Roman Empire!" he jumped, startling his little yellow friend. "Holy hell! It's Holy Roman Empire! B-but I thought…"

There was no way that this little one lying by the fire, weak and alone, could be the Holy Roman Empire. There was just _no _way! The Empire had been crumbling for years now, and had been officially dissolved by one of Austria's Emperors not too long ago. How could it be that Holy Roman Empire was still around? He wasn't!—or he wasn't _supposed _to be…

"Y-you must be Germany." Gilbert looked the boy over quietly. "I heard that someone like you might come around after Holy Rome…but God you look so much like him! I wonder…"

Just when Gilbert was on a role, the little boy started to stir. Prussia watched silently as the child clumsily sat up and rubbed his eye lazily. Once the initial tiredness was out of the way, it seemed that the little upstart was quick enough to realize that something had happened and he was not alone. First, the boy stared at his bandages and the cape that surrounded him, before turning his attention to the fire that was burning happily. Following the clues, the boy continued to look around until his gaze came up to Prussia.

A bit flustered at the boy's sudden awakening, Gilbert put on his tough face instantly. "About time you woke up!" He meant it to be more playful than it came out and regretted ever saying anything when the child seemed to shrink back in fear. Changing tactics, the nation tried his best to look friendly. "So…how do you feel?"

Despite his obvious fears, the boy did his best to put on a brave face in front of the man who had saved him. Gilbert was impressed by the show of courage coming from one as small and helpless as this little upstart nation, but he remained still, wondering if the child was brave enough to answer him. For some odd reason, Prussia hoped the boy would be.

"I…" the child faltered. "Please...I'm so hungry."

Astonished by the bold reply, Gilbert found himself laughing. The kid had guts, that was for sure! Of all the things to say to the mighty Prussia! Once he regain some control and wiped the tears from his eyes, Prussia found himself looking at a slightly disgruntled looking child. It suddenly became apparent to the ruby-eyed man that this kid might not have been so bold as much as blunt.

Gilbert was unable to get the grin off his face as he looked over the innocent face of the boy. "I'd imagine! You look like nothing but skin and bones!" Taking out his pack, he dug around until he found a loaf of bread and his last slice of summer sausage. Carefully he split the loaf in half and placed the sausage in between the bread. "Here," he stood up and carefully handed the boy the food. "Eat this."

Although he was certainly hungry, the look of utter amazement in the boy's wide blue eyes made Gilbert not care as much that he would have to go the night without food. "Thank you, sir!" the child exclaimed before cheerfully biting into his meal.

Watching the other eat was enough to gladden any heart and Gilbert was no exception. _I really am the best person ever, _he thought smugly. He took out his water skin as well and passed it to the boy. Again, the boy looked up at Prussia with eyes the size of saucers before smiling ever so slightly as he took it. "Thank you, sir," he said again.

Smirking haughtily, the kingdom decided that he should probably get a medal for being so awesome. Perhaps meeting this kid wasn't such a bad thing after all. "My name's not _sir, _kid, it's _Prussia_. I am the Kingdom of Prussia, the greatest and most awesomest kingdom that's ever been ever! And you, kid, were lucky enough to have gotten yourself saved by _me_."

The little blonde's eyes widened impossibly more at hearing just who his hero was. The child's mouth fell open and formed a little "o" shape as he stared up adoringly at Prussia. The adoration swiftly went to Gilbert's head when he realized that he just might have found someone else that esteemed him as much as he loved himself. "R-really?" the boy smiled softly.

"Really!" Gilbert went on. "I must say, you really know how to pick a rescuer! There aren't a lot of people out there half as amazing as me, and none of them would have ever been awesome enough to save you like I did. You need to be more careful."

Gilbert saw the fear shoot through the icy blue eyes just as clearly as he could see the fire flicker before him. Although he did not know why, he found himself feeling sorry again for scaring the boy like that. Although he was known to be an aggressive state, Prussia really did not want to harass this little one at the moment.

"Hey," the white haired man exclaimed after a minute, wanting to change the subject. "You seem like a good kid, what'd you say your name was?"

"I-I don't know s-Prussia…sir," the boy looked down at his hands, an embarrassed flush spreading across his round cheeks.

"That's okay," Gilbert grinned. "Because I think I know who you are!"

"Really?" the boy's blue eyes sparkled.

It really touched Gilbert that the boy was so trusting…it was foolish, but touching nonetheless. "Yeah. I believe that you're a nation that's just starting out, or is trying to get started. You're going to be Germany."

"Germany?" the child cocked his head to the side.

"Yeah! Germany!" Prussia exclaimed readily. "I'm sure once all the fighting is done and over with all those little states around here will pull together so you can become your own country. _And _since most of this land you're on here belongs to _my _empire, I'm going to be your big brother from now on!"

Tears suddenly began running down little Germany's cheeks as he stared up at his new big brother. For a horrifying moment, Gilbert thought he might have done something wrong and wondered if the boy didn't want to be his brother when he noticed the small smile resting upon the boy's lips. "Really? Y-you'll be my big brother?"

With a warmed heart, Prussia smiled fondly at Germany. Although it would no doubt prove useful in the future to have formed a friendship with one that wasn't quite its own country yet, Gilbert saw it as more than that. He had not gained an ally so to speak— as the states that had been the Holy Roman Empire had always liked him— but he had made a friend, an actual friend. No, it was even more than that! He had found a brother.

"Stick with me, West, and you'll go places," he smiled affectionately. With a silent vow, Prussia promised that he would always protect and be with his new little brother.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So, now we've seem more of Prussia. I tried to exaggerate a bit more when writing from Gilbert's point of view more or less, and keep the "I'm awesome and better than everyone" kinda attitude he's got going on. He was really fun to write! ^_^

**History Facts: **The Holy Roman Empire was dissolved on August 6, 1806 by Emperor Francis II. Francis went to become Francis I and created the Austrian Empire. (this refers to "Austria's Boss" in my fic). Now for everyone out there, I'm trying to make the HRE really be Germany (which if you think about it, that's really the case) but the name "Germany" doesn't really come out until around 1815 with the German Confederation which for my story's sake, is going to be little Germany. Next up in teenage years will be when Prussia helps set up the North German Confederation in 1866 which will be Germany's "teenage" years (he'll rage from 12-15 I'm thinking). And last, but not least, in 1871 the German Empire was established and that will become the Germany we all know and love...though the Empire itself failed after WWI, but Germany held on...so yeah...just some things to look forward to while reading this...or history for that matter...

Let me know what you're thoughts are about this. I'd love to hear from you. Thanks everyone!


	4. Chapter 3: Big Brother

**Chapter Three: Big Brother**

With the exciting events the night before ended, the forest seemed still and peaceful as the sun rose the next morning. Gilbert woke around his usual time of seven o'clock and stretched idly. His neck was stiff from having slept sitting upright, and his back felt like it had a kink or two in it, but overall, he wasn't too bad off. His stomach growled and he found himself starving. Not eating the night before had made him ravenous.

Speaking of ravenous, Prussia looked over to where the boy had fallen asleep the night before. Gilbert suspected that the little guy was probably still sound asleep. And who could blame the kid? With all those injuries, getting chased by wolves, it was a wonder the boy had even woken back up last night!

But like the night before, Gilbert was taken by surprise when he saw the little boy sitting up, cross-legged as thought waiting for _him _to get up. _Great, I've got an early bird, _the kingdom thought with a groan, but said out loud, "Morning, Germany."

"Good morning," the child responded back immediately.

The reply had sounded military, and it made Gilbert a bit uneasy to hear it come from one so young. "Sleep well?" He couldn't really think of anything else to say.

"Yes, sir," the boy nodded once.

"Um…right…" The nation scratched the back of his neck uncertainly. "You know, Germany, you don't have to call me 'sir' all the time. You can call me Gilbert, you know."

"I didn't know your name was 'Gilbert'. I thought your name was 'Prussia'?" Bright blue eyes stared up into red ones with confusion.

"Well, I _am _Prussia, but my _name _is Gilbert," the man tried to explain the best he could. For some reason he felt a bit intimidated by the kid. Of course there was really no reason why he should be! He was a great, strong nation, after all! But there was something about the boy that reminded him a bit of Austria. He made metal note of changing that later.

Slowly, the little blonde nodded once. "All right…_Gilbert_."

"Good!" Prussia stood up and looked about, feeling the need to move around to get out of the child's calculating gaze. "Well, I think we should be getting off, don't you? Don't want to stay in the forest forever, do you?"

"No, sir! Er…no, Gilbert," Germany's eyes were wide in fear and trepidation.

Although the boy's fears really were not funny, Gilbert couldn't help but smile. With such a young face and wide eyes, the child looked nothing short of a cherub. For a moment, the need to go "aw!" was almost too strong for Prussia to overcome, but he managed it. "Right then," he smirked. "Let's gets going, Germany!"

"Um…Gilbert?"

Such interruptions were annoying and they frustrated Prussia to no end, but when he looked back down at the angelic face of the tiny child, any irritated retort that he had been thinking up died immediately on his lips, and instead he found himself asking, "What's wrong, kid?"

"I…don't have a shirt." The child's embarrassment was painfully obvious as a spectacular blush spread across his round cheeks.

"Oh!" the older man exclaimed, blushing a bit himself, although he had no idea why. "Well, you're a strapping young man, aren't you?" he ruffled the child's hair jokingly. "You'll survive without until we get to my place. I think I still have some old clothes that should fit you well enough."

Although he did not look too comfortable with the idea of running around without a shirt, Germany did perk up at the mention of going to Prussia's house. "Are we really going to your house, Gilbert?"

"Sure are," the ruby-eyed man grinned. "And wait 'til you see it, kid! It's the most spectacular place ever! I've collected all kinds of cool things from my years of travel and conquest. And I've got everything anyone could ever want ever! You'll love it there."

Whatever his real views about going shirtless, the little blonde seemed to completely forget that in favor of smiling up brightly at the older man. Again, Prussia was a bit unsure how to feel about the show of such blatant adoration. Of course he _loved _being adored—in fact, he believed everyone _should _adore him—but he had never had anyone so small look up to him like this. Gilbert knew that many other nations were jealous of his awesomeness, and that they all secretly wanted to be him, but it seemed that the child's interest in him was not born of jealousy or secret ambitions. No, the boy did not seem like that kind at all. This little one liked _Gilbert_, not just Prussia…

Clearing his throat loudly, Gilbert put on his hat, picked up his pack, and took his cape from the child. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, Gilbert!" the boy exclaimed happily.

Together, the kingdom and the little region began making their way out of the forest. They had not gone all that far when Gilbert noticed that the child was falling behind. He was about to call out and tell the kid that if he didn't hurry up, he'd get left behind, when he paused. The fierce look of determination that graced the round, child-like face actually hurt Gilbert's heart. It was clear the Germany was struggling, but he also looked resolved not to ask for any help. It was clear that the boy wanted to do things by himself.

Once more Prussia was assaulted with feelings he did not quite know how to place. A part of him wanted to just let the boy suffer silently with his dignity intact, but another part desperately wanted to do something to help. He was impressed with the stubborn determination, but he also mentally rebuked to boy for his foolishness. There was nothing wrong with asking for help when you needed it, especially if you weren't as awesome and strong as Prussia!—but since the little one wasn't even a proper nation _and_ was hurt, he shouldn't try and push himself too much.

Coming to a stop, Gilbert waited for the child to reach him, allowing the boy to keep his pride. He noticed that Germany was sweating and gasping a bit as he limped along, and it made Prussia want to kick himself. He should have figured that the boy wouldn't be up for a long hike today after everything he must have gone through. But once the boy did catch up, he looked up at his rescuer with pleading blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Gilbert, I'll try to keep up better."

It slightly upset Gilbert to know that the boy believed he was angry with him, but he did his best to mask it with a gentle smile. "No worries, kid." His upbeat attitude seemed to lift a weight of guilt off of the child's shoulders, and he smiled back at his hero.

The gratitude that shown in the bright blue eyes over something so trivial warmed Gilbert's heart yet again. In the past, no one had ever expressed such appreciation to him, even when he did so much more for them then he did for this little boy. If there was anyone in the world that deserved Gilbert's awesome help and protection, it was certainly Germany.

Without a second thought, Prussia scooped up the little region in his arm. Germany gave a small yelp of surprise at suddenly being lifted off the ground, but otherwise did not make a sound. He went stiff in Gilbert's arms, as though afraid to make a wrong move.

"W-What are you doing?" the tiny blonde asked quietly.

Gilbert beamed brightly down at the child in his arms. "Carrying you! What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I know that!" the child pouted. "I meant why."

Annoying the boy was proving to be quite entertaining, Prussia decided, and he made note to tease the small one in the future. "Well, you seem to have been doing a lot lately, like getting chased by wolves and all, so I figured that you might want a break from walking around."

"I can still walk!" Germany protested.

"Of course you can, West!" Gilbert agreed merrily. "But I just figured that you've been through a lot lately, and since you don't know where my house is, it would just be easier if I carried you there. Besides, it's not far."

It was a lie, but he hoped the boy believed it. Prussia's house was at least ten miles away, and carrying the weight of a child was sure to become a burden, but Gilbert tried not to think about that. Although it would be a hassle, in all good conscious, he could not let the boy continue to suffer the way he had been before. If Gilbert was going to take it upon himself to watch out for the boy he had to take care of him, right? That's what awesome people did for those under their care.

But judging from the child's hard eyes, Prussia knew that the kid did not buy the story. It seemed to be only out of courtesy that he did not call Gilbert out on the lie outright. _Such good manners, _the man mused. _We're gunna have to fix some of that too…_

Without waiting for the boy's consent, Gilbert began the long trek back to his home. He had been worried about the child's weight becoming a factor the longer he walked, but Gilbert found out soon enough that his little one did not weigh much at all. In fact, he could see most of the child's bones without a shirt to cover him. How he had missed that the night before, Prussia did not know, but he figured that he had other things on his mind.

So, it was not all that troublesome to carry the kid after all, and Prussia noticed grimly that his pack and rifle weighed him down more than the boy. But the sun was shining and the weather was good, and after a while, Gilbert didn't mind walking all that much. In fact, he was rather pleased with the turn out of the day. Things were so peaceful that his mind began wandering off to other places.

For instance; his thoughts turned back to the Holy Roman Empire. In his younger years, when Gilbert had been a smaller version of his awesome self, he and Holy Rome grew up together. They had been brothers. Unfortunately, due to certain circumstances, Prussia and his brother Holy Rome had never actually gotten to know each other all that well. Constant fighting had kept Gilbert away while Holy Rome was kept away mostly with political issues, cooped up a lot with that jerk Austria. And because of all that, Prussia had never really gotten to know his brother all that well.

But here, resting silently in his arms, was his brother! Although all reports claimed that Holy Rome was gone, Gilbert just _knew _that this little region had to be his long lost brother. Besides the fact that both Germany and Holy Roman Empire looked nearly identical, they acted very much the same. It was true that Prussia had not seen Holy Rome for a while, but he was certain that he'd be able to identify his own brother! With a mind and memory as amazing as his, Gilbert was confident that this boy was the brother that had disappeared.

God was on his side this time however, Gilbert was sure of that. Now he had the chance to get to know the brother that had so often been kept from him. Even if little Germany did not remember the past, that was okay with Prussia. He could help the boy reshape himself, become as amazing and as wonderful as Gilbert himself!…if such a thing were possible that was. After all, Gilbert _was _pretty amazing, and the world might not be able to handle having two people as awesome as he was. But that was okay too, and he promised to like his brother no matter how he turned out.

Besides, even if little Germany did not turn out to be awesome, there was still a plus side to all of this: Germany would have to live at Prussia's house. And that meant that the kid would have to do all of the cleaning from now on! That was a definite positive, right? Now he could focus on other things, like making his kingdom so much more awesome! It would be great!

"Gilbert?"

The man blinked several times before looking down at his young charge. "Yeah?"

"Are we there yet?"

The older man sighed, praying that it would be a relatively short walk home…

**oOoOoOo**

While Gilbert silently mused to himself throughout their journey, little Germany stayed quiet most of the trip. Only every so often did he speak up, and only when he really needed to use the bathroom, or when he was too curious to know something and had to ask. However, he found Gilbert to be a willing source of information and never snapped too much at him anymore. That was good. He was not sure he could handle Prussia's displeasure. He did not want to annoy the kingdom before they really got to know each other.

"We're almost there, kid," Gilbert said a few moments later.

Excited, the little boy turned around and with searching bright eyes, he scanned his surroundings eagerly. He could not believe that he was finally out of the forest and away from everything scary and nasty. At last he was somewhere safe and had someone to watch out for him. He liked that idea very much. He never wanted to get lost ever again!

But after several minutes of searching, the promised home did not come into view. Where was this spectacular house? The little blonde could not see it, and he began to feel very anxious. Gilbert wouldn't lie to him, would he? His new guardian wasn't going to just drop him off somewhere and leave him, would he? No, not Gilbert. Gilbert was a hero! Gilbert was everything good and awesome! Hero's didn't just leave little boys out alone in the woods, they helped people no matter what.

Before despairing thoughts could take hold of Germany, a large castle came into view. Actually, it was more of a fort that looked as though it had been converted into a house, but there was the distinct feel that someone was living there. A large Prussian flag flew overhead, and matched perfectly with the pale stone of the fortress. Although in reality it was not a massive home, it certainly looked that way to the wide-eyed child.

Germany's eyes were round as he took in the sight of the impressive home before him. Gilbert had not been lying at all; this was the greatest house ever!—never mind the fact that he could not quite remember ever seeing any others. To the boy, his new guardian was a hero, and this house fit in perfectly with his idea of how a hero should live. It was a castle!

Had he looked over at Prussia, Germany would have seen the older man amused with the boy's awe. "Like it, Germany?" he smiled down at the child fondly.

"Yes!" the little one exclaimed.

"Want to go see the inside of it?"

"_JA_!" the child beamed up at _his _Gilbert.

The older man laughed merrily at the child's enthusiasm and shifted the boy a bit in his grasp. "_Auf_ _geht's_!" Gilbert howled, and began running towards his home at full speed.

Although Germany was not typically a silly child—he was actually proving to be a rather serious and no-nonsense type of boy—he could not help but smile at his guardian's enthusiasm. With a shriek of laughter, the pair rushed off. When they made it to the front door, they were both giggling and out of breath.

"_Willkommen_ to my home, Germany!" Gilbert opened the front door proudly, ready to show off his abode to the younger boy.

"Wow!" the child responded the moment he could see through the door. Prussia's house was amazing! The ceilings were high, the halls wide, and it was all made of a pricey looking white stone. There were tapestries hanging on the walls showing the history of the Prussian nation, there were grand paintings too, depicting stern, kingly looking figures. There were even suits of armor, and swords hanging up, and all sort of fantastic looking objects! It was the greatest place that the little boy had ever seen in his life!

"Told you you'd like it!" Prussia smirked. "Now come on. I think I've got some clothes you can fit into…somewhere around here," he muttered.

Germany remained quiet, silently gawking at all of the things that Gilbert had managed to squeeze comfortably into his house, while the man sat him down on one of his cushy looking chairs. "You stay right here, okay, kid? I'll be right back."

The boy nodded vigorously, wanting to make sure that Gilbert knew that he would follow the rules. The ruby-eyed man smiled at him again before ruffling his hair affectionately. With that, Prussia walked off and disappeared to another part of the house.

For just a moment, Germany was afraid. He did not like the idea of his hero going away, but he remained still and quiet in his seat. He had to show Gilbert he was a big boy after all. He did not want Gilbert to think he was weak! So he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Feeling calmer, he reopened his eyes and decided to study the room again.

This room seemed to be a living room of sorts. There was a large fireplace on the north wall and above that, a mantle that held all sorts of strange, little knickknacks, some of which the child did not know what they were even supposed to be. There were more tapestries hanging on the walls and there was a large, Persian rug in the middle of the floor. Again, there were more swords hanging up as well, and a small, harpsichord in the south corner. There were several chairs sitting out and a round oak table. Overall, it had a rather unique style to it, but reminded the boy of an old medieval castle in some ways.

"All right, kid," Gilbert came walking back through the door. "I think I've got something for you until we get some other decent clothes."

The white haired man held up a small shirt and a pair of lederhosen. There was nothing particularly spectacular about the clothes, the shirt was just a plain cream and the lederhosen were brown without much design, but to the child's eyes, they were perfect. The only clothes that he ever really remembered were these ratty, torn pieces of cloth that hung off of his skinny frame. The clothes that Gilbert were handing him looked clean and well made.

With shining eyes, Germany looked up at his guardian with gratitude. He could not remember anyone being this nice to him before. He did not really even know Gilbert, but the ruby-eyed man was willing to take him in, feed and clothe him as though they had known each other their whole lives. Prussia really was the best man that the boy knew. Gilbert was so much more than just Germany's hero, he was his _brother_.

"Thank you," the boy grinned up at the man before him.

A funny look flashed over Gilbert's face after Germany had said that, but the boy could not quite figure out what that meant. He was almost afraid he had said something wrong, when Prussia smiled back and nodded once. "Yeah…Sure. You're welcome, kid…You can get that stuff on by yourself, right?" Gilbert shifted a bit uncomfortably.

"Yes," the blonde nodded once, blushing. The _last _thing he wanted was for his new big brother to help him change his clothes! He was not a baby, and he could do it by himself! He would prove to his new big brother that he was strong and capable.

"All right…well, uh…I'll be in the other room while you change." Gilbert scratched the back of his neck a bit awkwardly. "Just shout when you're finished."

"Okay," the child nodded. He waited for the other man to leave before he relinquished his hold on the on the chair and stood up to change his clothes. When he looked through his little pile of clothes, he was thankful that his big brother had gotten him a change of undergarments and socks as well. So, contentedly, he changed into his new clothes.

The clothes fit well, and Germany wondered at it. The shirt was just a bit baggy, and the lederhosen just a size or so big, but the boy supposed that he would be growing soon so it wouldn't matter much. These were still the best clothes that he had ever had—or remembered having—and he was only too happy to be in something other than his brother's cape and his sad excuse for pants.

"Gilbert! I'm finished!" the boy shouted just like he had been instructed to do.

The boy waited, but his brother did not come back into the room. Confused, Germany waited, wondering why his brother had not come back. He waited a minute or so, but when Prussia did not come back, the blonde began getting anxious.

"Gilbert!" He decided to shout as loud as he could. "GILBERT!"

A loud commotion could be heard up the stairs, and the sound of heavy foot falls seemed to fill the house. "GILBERT!" Germany cried out, afraid. "GILBERT!"

The footsteps began getting closer and closer, echoing off the stone. The little boy became more and more frightened. Had someone broken into the house and hurt his brother? What as all that noise? "_BRUDER_!" he shrieked.

"_WAS_?" In the next instant, Gilbert came skidding into the room, a sword held in one hand and a pistol in the other. "What? What is it? What's going on?" The man jerked his head from side to side, as though looking for something to kill. When he found nothing amiss, he put down his weapons and practically ran to the little boy's side. "What's wrong, kid?" he knelt down before the child, placing his hands on the little one's small shoulders. "What did you see? What is it?"

Shaking, blue eyes round with confusion, the child looked up into his brother's wide red eyes. "I…I'm finished changing," he said in a small voice. It was suddenly very hard to meet his brother's gaze.

"_Was_!" Gilbert released the boy from his grasp. "That's it? That's all you wanted?" He looked angry, and it scared the boy. "Why on earthwere you shouting then?"

Germany was suddenly very frightened. He had done the one thing he did not want to do most: He had made his brother angry with him. And they had not even known each other for a full day yet! "I…I…" Tears sprung up without permission into his large eyes. "I w-was just doing w-what you told me to do."

"What?" Prussia looked confused for a moment before understanding dawned on him. "Oh…well, I did tell you to shout when you were done…but why did you sound so upset?"

"I-I heard loud noises upstairs." Several fat tears sprung free and rolled down the boy's round cheeks.

Prussia took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. "That was me, kid. I was trying to change my clothes when I heard you shouting. I thought something bad was happening," he explained as patiently as he could.

"I'm sorry," the child repented looking down at his socked feet.

"Just wait for me a little longer next time, okay? Give me some time to actually get down the stairs." Gilbert scolded lightly. "You nearly scared me to d—"

The man stopped mid-sentence, as though completely stunned. Germany did not seem to notice, but instead nodded once more. "I'm sorry, _Bruder_. I'll be more patient next time." And before Prussia could have said or done anything else, Germany wrapped his little arms around his big brother's neck, and hugged him fiercely.

Had the child been older, he might have noticed how stiff Gilbert became, but he did not. All that he knew was that his big brother had come again to try and save him. It was a good feeling to know that there was someone out there to look after you. So, the boy hung on until he felt his brother's arms slowly snake around his waist, and he was hugging back.

Yes, it was a very good thing to have a big brother.

**Author's Note: **Okay, now the brother relationship is getting underway. If you haven't noticed yet, Gilbert is still adjusting to the whole Big Brother role, and at the end, when he stops mid-sentence is kinda him not believing that he was going to admit he was really scared for his brother when he thought something was wrong. Awesome people don't admit they're scared, after all. :P And little Germany's personality is starting to come out a bit more. If you didn't catch it or understand it fully, when Prussia said "just shout when you're done", Germany took it literally and shouted. So even as a little guy he's proving to be very precise. You'll see more of that later on.

**German Reminders: **Most of you know basic German, I'm sure, but here's a little reminder for some of you: _Ja_-yes. _Bruder_- brother. _Was_- What. _Willkommen- _Welcome. _Auf geht's_- Let's go.

So, if you like any of this, please drop me a review! I'd love to hear from you all! Thanks to all of those who do! :)


	5. Chapter 4: Little Brother

**Chapter Four: Little Brother **

The day went by in a flash for the stunned Prussia. After the infamous "Shouting Incident," as Gilbert began calling it, he felt as though he were in some other dimension. Having little Germany around was almost completely undoing the other nation. There was something about that boy…

He had begun thinking about the child all day and the conclusions to his musings did not pleased him at all. While he felt obligated to care for the child, there was something else that was there, something else that he felt besides obligation…It made him _really _uncomfortable and more than a little uneasy.

As the day wore on, Gilbert prepared dinner while the boy decided to sit in the den as he was exhausted from the day of travel, though he did not have to walk all that far. The older man had given the boy a book to look through to keep the child quiet and amused while he went about making the meal. It was not the most fun thing that there was to do, but Germany had not seemed to mind reading while his guardian went off, so Gilbert had not thought twice about it and left.

One might have said that Prussia enjoyed himself as he made up a plate of _Bratwurst_, _Brötchen, sauerkraut, _and_ kartoffels_ for his young charge, but Gilbert himself refused to think of it that way. He was _not _the type to enjoy cooking, like that pansy Austria. He was a _real _man, one that loved fighting and swords…Even when he decided to make _die Schokoladentorte_ for dessert, he refused to believe that he was going out of his way to please the child. _He _just happened to want a big meal after almost twenty-four hours of not eating. It had _nothing _to do with Germany at all…yeah…

It took some time to make the full meal, but in the end, Gilbert was very pleased with himself and the way everything was turning out. It all smelled and looked delicious, and he would wager that even that stuck-up France would enjoy his meal. So, when he took the cake out of the oven and set the table, he was in high spirits. He went to go fetch little Germany with an extra spring in his step. The boy, he suddenly realized, had been abnormally quiet.

Unconsciously, Gilbert found himself walking just a bit fast to the den where he had left the little boy. There was a part of him that was afraid that something terrible had happened to the child and he had been unable to cry for help. The other more reasonable side told him that everything was fine and that the kid was just sitting where he had been left and was trying to figure out how to read. From what Gilbert had seen of the child, the boy was well mannered and very consciences of the rules.

As he walked around the corner, the ruby-eyed man came to a dead halt and froze at the sight that greeted him. Instead of the boy either bleeding or sitting quietly reading, Gilbert found the child slumped over, resting his head on his shoulder, sound asleep, a book on the floor from where it had slipped off the child's lap. It appeared that the boy had been too tired to read and had fallen asleep…that or the book had been so boring that sleep had been a better option; either way, it sounded probable to Prussia.

Gilbert walked into the room as carefully and as silently as he could. There was a small part of him that was annoyed that the boy had been sleeping peacefully when _he_ had been slaving away in the kitchen, but that minuscule part was pushed aside savagely by the part of him that could not help but believe that the child was adorable as he slept. He also felt bad for the child. After all, Germany had been through a lot the past couple of days, and if this was indeed Holy Roman Empire, then the boy had been through hell for about a year or more now. With the injuries that Germany had sustained, it was only natural that the child was tired.

Although he did not really want to wake the boy, Prussia knew he had to. Dinner was ready, and he had _no _desire to see all of his wonderful food go to waste or turn cold…But the child looked like a cherub with his round little face, pudgy cheeks, and golden hair! It seemed almost a crime that Gilbert wake the little angel. But it had to be done.

Kneeling down next to the chair, Gilbert carefully put his hand on the little one's back. "Germany," he whispered softly. "Germany, _wach auf_," he cooed. "Dinner's ready."

Slowly, the child began to stir, his dark lashes began to flutter and his eyes peeked open. He looked rather confused for a moment before he sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily. "_Wo bin ich_?"

"You're in my house, West," Gilbert smiled affectionately at the child's behavior. "Remember? I brought you home?"

Now more awake, the child blinked his large blue eyes, and looked around his surroundings. When his gaze turned towards Prussia, the boy smiled shyly at his guardian. "I forgot," he admitted with a blush.

Gilbert chuckled lightly. "That's okay. You've had a hard day, right?" Although it seemed inconceivable that someone could forget the honor of coming to _Prussia's _house, the kingdom did not pursue the topic in favor of turning towards the kitchen. "Dinner's ready. You hungry?"

"_Ja!_" the child nodded enthusiastically.

It almost did not seem right how much Gilbert liked the child, but there it was. Normally it took a lot for him to even _consider _liking another person as they had to live up to his awesomeness and had to be on par with how amazing he was. There were tests and rules that he had set up, and yet here he was, actually going out of his way to care for this little upstart nation, this little territory that had done nothing for him except cause some discomfort. Perhaps it was the end of the world? That was the only explanation that Gilbert could come up with that made any sort of sense.

Still grinning down at the boy, Gilbert scooped the child into his arms. Once more, the boy tensed, but he seemed a little more comfortable with the idea of someone holding him than he had earlier that day. But it still made Prussia sad for some unknown reason, that Germany should be so serious at such a young age. Without actually thinking through the consequences—in the typical Gilbert style—Prussia threw the little boy into the air, snickering.

"Hey!" the child cried out in fear, twisting around in the air, arms flailing.

"Aw, come on, kid!" Gilbert laughed when he caught the child again. "It's fun, isn't it? I won't let you drop."

Without waiting for permission to do it again, Gilbert tossed Germany into the air again. The child's eyes were wide with fright and distrust, but after a few times, the boy did realize that it was a game of sorts and that his brother was not going to let him fall. A shy smile slipped onto the boy's lips. It wasn't long before Prussia's animated titters caught on and soon the pair was laughing together, in between the child's cries of exhilaration as he was thrown into the air.

It actually lightened Gilbert's heart to hear the childish shrieks of laughter ringing through his home. In all honesty, Prussia realized that he had never had a little one in his place before, but it seemed right that he should finally take someone under his wing, rather than just destroy them. Besides, he _liked _doing this for little Germany…

Everything he was doing for the child was, of course, for his own selfish reasons really. Take this new game for instance; when he had been younger, Gilbert had always wanted someone to come and play with him like this, to toss him into the air with every intention of catching him again, but he never had. For whatever reason, no one had ever wanted to care for him in such a way. For the most part, Prussia—and Holy Roman Empire for that matter— had grown up with harsh rules and little or no real affection from his own father. Deep down, he did not want that fate again for his little brother.

Gilbert finally ceased his game, and snickered at the boy in his arms, who was panting and smiling from ear to ear. Still giggling, the pair took a moment to catch their breaths. "Come one, Germany. It's dinner time," the older man grinned, before walking off towards the kitchen.

Germany was still giggling quietly, but nodded in response, not about to argue with getting food. _I _am _awesome! _Prussia thought haughtily. Who else would have been able to make this serious little kid laugh like an actual human being? No one! Just Gilbert, the _greatest _big brother in the world!

…_Big brother? _The thought had not fully registered itself in Gilbert's brain until that moment. He _was _Germany's big brother, and this child was his little brother. However odd it might have been, even Germany realized this new relation and had proclaimed it for what it was several hours ago. Was that why Prussia had these strange feelings for the boy? Was this how big brothers were supposed to feel towards their little brothers?

Sitting the boy down at the table, Prussia left the kid in his chair before getting the plates he had made up and set them down. Only when he had come back to the table did Gilbert realize that there was a problem: Germany was too small to see over the table top. "Well," he huffed in surprise. "I did not even think about that…I forgot how small you were, kid."

"Not _that _small," came an indignant little mutter that sounded like it was coming from underneath the table.

Chuckling, Gilbert went and got several pillows from the living room and picked up his new brother. He stacked the cushions high before setting the boy back down. "There!" he announced. "Now you can actually see at the table."

The small boy huffed a bit, put out by his older brother's teasing, but did not respond. It was fun to pick on the child, and Gilbert had no intentions of stopping, but even he could see that Germany—to some degree— enjoyed the playful repartee too. _Definitely going to have to work on lightening this kid's mood up, _Prussia made metal note.

Sitting down in his chair, Gilbert folded his hands and looked over at the child. "Would you care to say grace?" he asked, wanting to test the boy. If his suspicions were correct—and truth be told, Gilbert had a sharp mind and usually was correct about such suspicions—then the boy would be able to pray the common table pray because the boy _was_ the Holy Roman Empire.

Germany did not miss a beat, and proceeded to fold his hands and bow his head. Closing his eyes, the child began to pray out loud. Gilbert watched the child intensely, studying every move the boy made, listening to each and every syllable produced, and once Germany was finished, Prussia was certain that he had found Holy Roman Empire. But when the boy looked over at him, the ruby-eyed man simply smiled and nodded his head approvingly. "Tuck in," he grinned.

Although the child might have still been confused about his identity, Gilbert had no intentions of telling the child his heritage…not yet anyway. The boy had a lot of catching up to do and a lot to contend with if he was going to become a proper nation. With the French and that Austrians all about, Prussia knew his little brother would need to build himself up and look to the future, not the past. Besides, there were parts of Holy Rome's past that were better left unknown as far as Gilbert was concerned.

Not knowing his older brother's thoughts, Germany his attention to his dinner. Blue eyes widened into the size of chair cushions as he gazed at his plate. "All of this…is mine?" he asked in astonishment.

Eyeing the plate that he had made up, Prussia frowned slightly. There was really not all that much food on the child's plate. Gilbert had thought far enough ahead to know that the child would not be able to eat as much as he would and therefore gave him smaller portions, but there was still not that much on the plate to warrant _that_ much wonder. "Of course that's all yours, who else's would it be?"

"I don't know." The child shrugged just a bit, but Gilbert caught it. A smile slipped onto the older man's face when he realized that perhaps the child's manners were not so prim and proper after all.

"Well, why don't you worry about eating that right now, and once you're finished with that, I made this really awesome cake." With sparkle in the child's eyes amused Gilbert, and he smiled knowingly at the boy.

The meal passed on in silence, but it was not uncomfortable. Ever vigilant, Prussia realized that his younger brother was having a bit of a difficult time cutting his sausage, and gallantly cut it up for the boy. Germany, in all politeness, thanked the older man, before going on with his meal. It seemed that the boy ate left handed, so he was having trouble holding his fork with his arm injured as it was. Gilbert suggested that the boy eat right handed for the time being, but the results ended up with _sauerkraut _dripped down the boy's shirt, and potatoes falling on the floor.

Germany looked horrified at his lack of coordination and at the mess he was making, but as the awesome big brother that he was, Gilbert reassured the boy that everything was okay, and it cleaned up easy. The only problem was, contrary to his earlier belief, Prussia realized that he was going to have to be the one to clean up after the child rather than the other way around…at least until the boy was well enough to help out. From the looks of it, the white haired man knew that he was going to have to wait for several weeks before his little brother would be of any use to him.

The child ended his meal much sooner than the kingdom ended his. It appeared that the boy could not eat too much, and when inquired on his lack of appetite, little _Deutschland _responded that he was full. This was said in a way that made Gilbert suspect that the boy was unwell, but he did not comment. He did not want to push the boy into saying or doing anything he was not comfortable with, so he let it be for the time being. Perhaps if he let Germany digest then he would be ready for cake by the time that Gilbert was finished.

Standing up once he had completed his own dinner, Prussia walked to the counter and brought the large chocolate cake to the table. The little yellow bird that seemed forever in his presence flew in from the other room after eating his own meal of birdseed and a raw potatoes (Gilbert thought it of prime importance to give everyone a potato) to see the monstrous dessert, and perched in his owner's hair.

From his seat, the boy's eyes widened immediately upon seeing such an enormous cake. Seeing his brother's expression, Gilbert couldn't help but puff up in pride. Not only was he an amazing warrior and kingdom, but he was a damn good cook too! There were just not limits to the vast array of things he was awesome at. And even though the kid wouldn't be able to clean for him yet, Prussia did not mind all that much considering he would get to show off.

"Behold, little brother, my creation!" Gilbert said dramatically as he took up a knife to slice _die Schokoladentorte_. It was one of Prussia's favorite desserts, and his mouth was already watering as he cut into the moist cake. He couldn't wait to taste it!

Germany remained still in his chair, watching silently as his older brother carved out pieces of cake. The boy's eyes looked heavy, causing Gilbert to frown. Children were supposed to be excited about sweets, not ready to fall over in the chairs out of boredom! On closer inspection, the ruby-eyed man realized that his brother was not so much bored as he was, perhaps, tired. Whatever the case, it was a blow to Prussia's ego, and he found himself insulted at the boy's lack of enthusiasm. _And here I thought he would like this, _he snorted to himself.

Gilbert set a piece of the warm cake in front of Germany, and tried his best not to show the offense he felt. After all, this was not a typical kid. From the memories that he did have of his brother Holy Roman Empire, Prussia remembered the other boy as a stubborn, prideful, cold sort of person, one who was not easily touched by anything and who's arrogance could make even the most patient of countries grind their teeth with anger. Since Germany _was _Holy Roman Empire, this little boy sitting next to Gilbert was sure to have retained some of those traits.

In a way, this new realization upset Prussia. He had not thought about the boy Germany had been, at least not personality wise. Everything from appearance to mannerisms, this child was Holy Rome, but there was a part of Gilbert that wished the child's mind would be nearly wiped clean. He wanted to help reshape the Empire, wanted to be there for his brother like he never really had been before. But if the child still retained the more stubborn qualities, if Germany turned out to be as arrogant and self-assured as he had been before as Holy Roman Empire, then the Kingdom of Prussia was certain that things would not carry on as smoothly as they had been that day. From what Gilbert recalled of his brother Holy Rome, he remembered how their personalities had clashed much of the time, which perhaps explained the other boy's closer relation to Austria.

The thought of Austria left a bad taste in Prussia's mouth, so he shoved in a piece of cake to combat it. In all honesty, it was okay if Germany didn't show his excitement, Gilbert knew that the boy was just trying to be mature. After all, this was perhaps the greatest cake in the whole world! Even if the boy didn't show it, he knew that on the inside, Germany would weep with joy at the awesome taste. Why, Gilbert bet—

And before Prussia could have finished his thought, or the child in question could take one bite of his dessert, Germany's head suddenly slammed down onto the table, his body completely limp. Gilbert was so startled by the sudden noise that he did not move quick enough to catch the boy as he slipped from his chair and crashed to the floor.

Horrified, Gilbert was up in a flash, and knelt down next to his unconscious charge. Germany's cheeks were flushed, but that rest of his face was unnaturally pale and pasty white. In the panic of the moment, the older man almost lost his head and started yelling for someone to help him, when he was able to snap himself out of his flustered state. Gaining back control, Prussia scooped up the limp child into his arms, and rushed the boy to Gilbert's own bedroom.

With all the tenderness in the world, the ruby-eyed man laid his tiny brother on his bed and quickly ran out of the room to fetch a bowl of cold water and a rag. Once that task was complete, he literally ran back to his room, not caring about the water he had sloshed onto his floors, and was back by the child's side in two minutes. He dipped the old rag into the water and began pressing it to the child's fevered brow.

The touch did not stir the child, but Prussia was too focused on the job at hand to despair too much over his brother's state. Standing up from the bed, the kingdom left his room in a sprint and went back to his storage closet and found the box of old child's clothes that he had found earlier. He pulled out one of his old nightshirts and ran back to his room.

Gilbert was huffing from his excursion, but he did not slow. As quick as a flash, he had the boy changed and tucked under the covers. He scooted a chair close to the bedside so he could sit, and began pressing the rag onto the child's forehead and face. Sharp red eyes caught sight of a dark bruise forming on the child's forehead from where he had hit the table after he had fainted. A bolt of pity shot through the older brother as he gazed down worriedly at the small boy before him.

Germany had been just fine this afternoon! Everything had seemed so perfectly normal when they had come home and when Gilbert had gone off to make dinner. There had been no outward sign that the child was ill! Thinking back, Prussia began making mental notes of what exactly his brother had been doing today that might bring on his sudden collapse.

The morning up to the afternoon Gilbert had been carrying him back home. And once they were home, they had stayed fairly close together, Gilbert reading over several documents and writing letters, Germany reading some book. After that, Prussia had gone to make dinner, and the boy was left to read. Germany had taken a nap before the kingdom had come to wake him for dinner…

A horrifying idea suddenly ceased Gilbert. What if the boy had _not _been sleeping? What if he had fainted like he had at the table? The wounds the boy had sustained while lost were not all that severe, with the exception of his arm, but then again, Prussia had no idea of what had happened to the child previous to the rescue. After all, this boy was Holy Roman Empire, the boy that had been lost for nearly a year now, there was no telling what all the child had gone through! Had the boy been stumbling around that woods all this time?

There were not many things that Gilbert feared, or at least that he would admit to being afraid of, but he considered the health of his little brother one of those things. If Germany had been sick this whole time, why hadn't he said anything? Why hadn't he told Gilbert that he wasn't feeling well? Oh God, and Gilbert had flung the boy into the air! That must have been terrible for the child!

"Come on, West, wake up!" Gilbert pleaded quietly. "Wake up!"

He spoke as though the force of his words alone would be enough to wake the child, but the boy remained stubbornly unconscious. Gilbert felt as though God were punishing him for something; the weight of guilt and anxiety were heavy upon the kingdom's shoulders. Prussia was not sure if he had ever felt like this before, scared almost beyond rational thought.

"Please get well, Germany!" Prussia found himself begging again. "It's gunna be okay. I'm here. Big brother Gilbert's here for you. You don't have to worry anymore. I'm here. Things are gunna be fine."

The situation was grim, but Gilbert was too stubborn to give up and too well trained militarily to give into panic. So the night proceeded on with Gilbert begging and whispering sweet nothings into his little brother's ear while tiny _Deutschland's_ life hung on by a thread. Prussia prayed that things would get better in the morning.

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**Author's Note: **Okay, so yeah. Germany's sick and Gilbert's about to have a heart attack he's so worried. But no worries, things will look up...eventually...Next up we meet someone new. (Who could it be?)

**German: **_Bratwurst-_a type of sausage. _Brötchen-_like a dinner roll._ sauerkraut_- do I really have to explain this one? _kartoffels_- potatoes. _die Schokoladentorte-_chocolate cake. _wach auf-_wake up. _Wo bin ich?-_ Where am I?

Okay, so, please leave me a review if there was anything you liked about this...or if you just want to comment. I'd love to hear from y'all! Thanks everyone who is reading!


	6. Chapter 5: The Unwelcomed Visitor

**Warning: **There is quite a bit of foul language in this chapter. If you're offended easily by that sort of thing, you might want to prepare yourself or don't read at all.

* * *

**Chapter Five: The Unwelcomed Visitor**

The next morning found Gilbert more frazzled and more upset than the previous one. He took the best care that he could of his brother, but no matter what he did, the boy remained unconscious. The terrible fever that so suddenly seemed to overcome the boy kept the child locked in delirium. The older man watched powerlessly as little Germany had fitful dreams, and weakly fought to come out of nightmares. For the first time in a long time, Gilbert felt completely helpless.

Night after night passed and still the child's progress did not improve. There were times when Gilbert was sure that Germany was purposefully staying ill just to make Prussia act like a fool. But each time this thought entered, each time Gilbert wished that that was really the case. At least then the boy would really be okay. He would have done anything to see the boy awake again; _anything_! He would even admit that there were time—granted, very _few _times—when he was not all that awesome!

All promises and prayers seemed to have been made for not as Germany stubbornly refused to come back into the land of the waking. Each and every day that the boy was unconscious sent another very real, very bitter, spike of fear into the kingdom's heart. He did not _want _to lose the brother he had just found again. The boy could learn so much from Prussia! It did not seem fair to snuff out the child's life so soon, especially since the boy had just come out of the last war alive.

On the night of the fifth day Germany had fallen ill, Prussia was nearly hysterical. He had never actually nurtured someone in such condition before, not even when he was younger. As a rule, Gilbert had made sure that he did not get too close to anyone, not personally anyway. It was a fine line that a nation walked, balancing their humanity with their nationality, balancing Gilbert with Prussia.

Gilbert had always been the sort to put Prussia first and Gilbert second, and that served to make him strong. Other weaker states usually found themselves too caught up in their human selves to actually worry about their people. But not Gilbert. He was as awesome as he was because he was the Kingdom of Prussia, not just Gilbert, the man that happened to be Prussia. His somewhat cold look at his humanity had done its duty; it helped him keep balance to his people and with his mind.

But things had started to change the moment Germany had come into the scene. After Holy Roman Empire's disappearance, Gilbert had truly been saddened by the news of his brother's demise; who wouldn't be? But that did not stop him from continuing on and watching over his lands. Nations died all the time whenever new and stronger ones immerged, everyone knew that, so why should he try to stop the world when the brother he had almost always treated more like a business partner disappeared? But it had been when Germany came into being that made Prussia stop and rethink everything.

Growing up with Holy Roman Empire, Gilbert and the late kingdom had been around the same age. They had fought and bickered, had competed with each other all their lives. Now that Holy Rome had changed into Germany, however, Gilbert saw the child in a new light. For one thing, Prussia was significantly older than his brother now, at least in terms of appearance and maturity, and instead of the arrogant, demanding kingdom that he had once been, the boy before him was now just a weak, pathetic territory, barely managing to keep himself going.

When Gilbert had first saved Germany from the wolves, he had been rather interested in the child. For a while, Prussia had not even been able to tell that it was his own brother! Perhaps what had thrown him off was the completely different attitude. Never before had the kingdom seen his brother so obviously frightened, nor had he _ever _seen such an adoring look in those blue eyes as they had looked up at him. For the first time that he could remember, Gilbert saw not the haughty little twat that had once been a powerful confederation, but just a broken-down nation that needed help. The child's mental attitude seemed to have reversed itself.

Looking down at the feverish boy, lying still in his bed, Gilbert suddenly found that there were tears in his eyes. This whole ordeal was tiring and wearing him out. The albino realized that he had not slept for quite some time. He had kept himself awake for the most part and only dozed for ten minutes at the most due to fear that something might happen to his little brother while he had his eyes closed. What if the child completely faded when he had his eyes closed?

Nearly diving himself completely insane, Gilbert's dark musings were interrupted by a rather loud sound. Startled, Prussia jumped up and grabbed his sword and a pistol. Carefully, he began walking silently out his door when he paused. If he went to see who it was at the door, then he would have to leave Germany! He did not want to leave his brother, yet he also did not want whoever was at his door to leave either. After all, it could be important information about the French and their damned Napoleon.

Unconsciously, Gilbert began chewing at his bottom lip. No matter how much he liked his little brother, he was a nation, and his first priority had to be his people. If it was information about Napoleon, he had to go see who was at the door. "I'll be right back, _kleiner Bruder_," he said softly as he closed the door. "I'll be right back."

Unaware of his disheveled appearance, Gilbert rushed down the stairs and flung open his door. "What is it?" he spat in irritation, only to freeze.

"Funny," a superior voice drawled. "And here I thought that you wouldn't know it was me."

Gilbert stood stunned in his place as he stared face to face with Austria. The other kingdom was looking Prussia up and down with critical amethyst eyes, his lips curled back ever so slightly as a sign of his disgust. "What the hell do _you _want, _Österreich_," Gilbert growled.

The other man stood straight backed, not looking the least bit concerned. "In my country, we invite guests into our homes, not make them stand out in the elements," he sneered.

Grinding his teeth together, Prussia barely restrained himself from slamming the door shut in the aristocrat's pompous face. "That rule applies in _my _country as well," he growled and watched as Austria made a move to walk it. Gilbert took the greatest satisfaction in blocking the entry with his arm. "However," he smiled callously, "you are not a _guest._"

At such rudeness, Austria scowled outright. "You think yourself so cleaver, don't you?" he spat. "But this isn't a game, _depp_. I've come here to talk to you about a growing problem."

Despite his hatred for the other man, Gilbert realized that it was probably worth it to hear what the other kingdom had to say in the long run. From the serious look on Roderich's face, Prussia deduced that it had to be something about that _arschloch_ France. Taking a deep breath, Gilbert stood up straight to allow the other man to enter.

"Come in," he bowed with mock curtsy. Austria passed by him with his nose in the air, a sneer of distain clearly written on his face. "_Arschgesicht_," Gilbert muttered under his breath.

Roderich did not waste any time in making himself at home. The moment he was in the hall, Austria marched himself to the living room and sat down in _Gilbert's _favorite chair. The other kingdom was about to confront this outrage when the other man spoke. "I assume that you've been hearing the same news I have about Napoleon; am I correct in my assumption?"

Straight to business. That had always been the Germanic way. If there was one thing that neither man could have ever faulted the other one for, it was dancing around a situation. Although it may have seemed rather rude to another nation, Prussia—and he knew Austria did as well—appreciated the straightforwardness of the conversation. At least this way there would be no exchange of false pleasantries and the whole affair could get done without awkwardness. They could talk about business without having to let down their guard or mask their hatred for the other.

"_Ja_, I've had some news," Gilbert crossed his arms, hoping to look intimidating. "Heard that he's taken up some German land."

"Indeed," Roderich nodded once. "I admit I am rather concerned about this." Amethyst eyes looked stormy.

Although he had his own fears as well, Gilbert certainly wasn't going to let on to his rival. So, with a snort and a laugh, he sat down as well, looking completely unconcerned. "Of course _you're _concerned," he mocked. "You and that Russia character got your asses handed to you by that French bastard last year, if I remember correctly."

That actually got a rather good response out of Austria, and Prussia savored the moment. "Don't you understand, you fool?" Roderich sat up, glaring daggers at the other man. "You and Saxony are the only German members of the late Holy Roman Empire that have not been enveloped into France! All those other backstabbing states have not only helped France, but are now in a confederation with him!"

At this, Prussia perked up as well, his red eyes widened ever so slightly. "A confederation? With France? Officially?"

Sitting back again, Roderich seemed pleased that he had gotten his point across. "Now you see my concern. Prussia," purple eyes looked about pleadingly. "I've even heard roamer that it won't be long before Saxony joins as well. You and I are going to be the last of the great kingdoms left to oppose France this side of Europe. Russia doesn't want to get involved again, though I'm sure he will, but you and I are going to be the great buffers to keep France from continuing east. There is no one left to put in front of us. We _have _to do something about this."

Leaning forward, staring intently at his rival, Prussia looked for any falsehood in the other man's face. He knew that things were getting bad, but he had not known how bad. Without realizing what he was doing, Gilbert glanced up the stairs, wondering what would become of his little brother. "I will try and persuade Saxony to stay with us," he said after a moment. "But what about everyone else? Surely England and Spain aren't taking kindly to France's advance?"

"You know England is furious." Austria rolled his eyes at the thought of France and Britain's great hatred for one another. (Ironically, he did not see his relationship with Prussia in the same manner.) "But I am not sure about Spain at this time. The point to all of this, Prussia, is that we need to think of something to protect ourselves. Keeping Napoleon at bay will not be easy."

"Obviously," Prussia rolled his ruby eyes. "But what I cannot understand is why the Germans are so willing to join up with that bastard France! My people and their people share the same strong blood, and I would have never fallen into that Frog's clutches!"

"Too true and the same goes for my people," Roderich nodded. "But you have forgotten one vital piece of information." Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "_You _exist. _I _exist. Our people have a country in which to protect, to invest. What do the other German's have? The memory of Holy Rome? They do not _have _a country, Prussia. Nothing is certain anymore for them. Joining up with France may very well seem like a good thing at this time. If they become French, then they are safe."

"But that _can't_ happen!" It was rare when Gilbert completely lost his composure like this in front of a rival. He had always wanted to keep a cool head so that the others would not know what he was thinking or attempting to do, but in this matter, he could not keep calm. This wasn't just about Prussia's feelings anymore, it was about _Gilbert's_, and Gilbert did not want to lose his little brother again!

Startled by the outburst, it took Austria a moment before he masked his face once again into a steady, thoughtful expression. "No, indeed, it cannot. Perhaps we should discuss what to do now? I am not fond of the idea of having to look at you the whole evening, but serious times calls for serious measures and all that."

"_Wichser_," Prussia muttered as he sat back down, giving the stairs another quick glance.

Roderich stared at his fellow kingdom for a moment, before crossing his legs again. It seemed that he was not going to rise to the bait. "Well, I do not think I can carry on this meeting unless I have some refreshments. Would my host be so kind as to retrieve some for me?"

"I am _not _your servant," Gilbert spat. "We have business to take care of, and then you are to get the hell out of my house! This isn't a social call."

It annoyed Prussia more than the initial request when Austria didn't have the politeness to look irritated. "I apologize," he inclined his head, sending warning signs shooting through Gilbert. "I had forgotten how unpolished Prussian society was."

"What?" Gilbert spat.

With a dramatic sigh, Roderich looked out towards the window. "How foolish of me to believe that Prussians had evolved from their barbarian-like ways into a civilized nation. Do forgive me, Prussia, I will remember my next visit."

Fuming, Gilbert stood up and stooped off towards the kitchen. "Fine!" he spat. "But you touch anything while I'm gone or do anything stupid, I won't hesitate to break your head in!"

Stomping away, Gilbert had to pass by the stairs. It was hard not to look up. He hoped that his brother would be all right while he talked to that Austrian _trottel_. It took a lot of willpower not to run up the stairs just to double check that everything was all right. _Everything will be just fine, _he told himself sternly. _The kid's made of sturdy stuff, he'll be just fine._

**oOoOoOo**

The moment Prussia left the room, Roderich stood up. During the course of their conversation, he noticed that the ruby-eyed man had glanced towards the stairs twice. Although he had _no _desire to stick around, Austria had been rather curious to know what his rival was up to. After all, Gilbert was usually not one to let his appearance slip into such disarray, especially when there was a guest. The other kingdom had seemed tired and worn, like he had not slept for some time, which only heightened to Roderich's curiosity.

Austria had suggested refreshments on a whim to get the obnoxious Prussia out of the room so that he could investigate. It seemed that his suspicions were founded in something when he noticed the albino glance up the stairs as he passed them, and almost stop, as though he were considering going up them for some reason or another, but had decided not to.

_He's hiding something from me, _Roderich thought. _But what? Is he allied with France? No, no, his explosion earlier was sincere; he does not want anything to do with France. But what could he be hiding?_

It was not really a gentlemanlike thing to do, snooping about and going through other people's things, but Austria knew that anyone would excuse him this once considering the circumstances. After all, he was in his rival's house with a war going on outside as well. If he had the chance to figure out what was going on, Roderich would take it.

As carefully as he could, the kingdom snuck up the stairs, hoping that he wasn't making a sound. When he made it up, he noticed that there were several rooms all around. _Now, which one are you hiding something in? _

If it had been anyone else's house, Roderich knew that he'd be in for a time trying to figure where everything was, but that was certainly not the case in Prussia's house. Down the hall, posted on every door, written in bright red ink, printed in the largest letters Austria had ever seen, were signs that read _"The Marvelous Chambers of the Totally Awesome Gilbert!"_, to the left of that was _"The Amazing Lavatory of Gilbert!"_, and to the right of the bedroom was _"The Spectacular Sitting Room of Gilbert!"_ There were several other nauseating signs hung up on doors, but Roderich didn't have the stomach to read them. "Get over yourself," he muttered as he walked farther down the hall.

He decided that the first place to look would be Prussia's chambers, as that would be the most logical place to hide something rather than in _"The Amazing Lavatory"_ or whatever the hell it was called…but then again, it _was _Prussia…He tiptoed his way to the other kingdom's room, passing by a small door that was labeled _"The Broom Closet of the Wonderful Gilbert"_ he nearly snorted. He had no time to get distracted. Roderich knew that he had only so much time before Prussia got back with the refreshments, and he had _no _desire to be actually thrown out of Prussia's home…or killed…

Once in front of the door, Roderich opened it as quietly as humanly possible. He stepped through the door, and then turned around to close it halfway. Sighing in relief, Austria turned to look around his rival's bedchambers. As expected, there were banners of the glory of Prussia hanging everywhere, Prussian flags, lavish blankets, Persian rugs, and all sorts of truly remarkable, showoff-y things that one might expect Gilbert to own.

Now Roderich _did _snort. "What an arrogant twit," he muttered.

Stepping farther into the room, Austria examined the room with a critical eye. Although Gilbert was an ass, he _was _known to be very clean and organized. It surprised Austria to find the room in a state of disarray. There was a chair out of place, set close to the bed, a large bowl of water sat on the fine wooden nightstand without something underneath to prevent a watermark, there were clothes thrown over chairs and wadded on the floor, there were several rags thrown on the floor around the bed or on the nightstand carelessly, and the bed itself was not crisply made. Prussia might have been many things, but a slob was generally not one of them.

"This explains his appearance," Roderich muttered. "But what's going on with him?"

Austria decided that he was in the right room, and proceeded towards the bed. He would start there since that was where the concentration of mess was. From there, he would look through the other side of the room, which had stayed neat and orderly for some reason. Whatever Prussia was up to, Roderich wanted in on it.

He was all set to start snooping through the rags, when something made a noise. Roderich jumped, and spun around, sure that he had been discovered. But his eyes met with nothing. Prussia was not there. Frowning, Austria looked around, trying to make sense of what he'd heard, when he saw the covers of the bed move ever so slightly.

Looking down, Roderich's amethyst eyes widened. "_Mein Gott!" _

**oOoOoOo**

"Stupid bastard always having to have tea! Stupid aristocratic twit that can't go without a snack for two minutes!" Gilbert muttered as he poured the tea into cups. He set them on the tray, and carried it out of the kitchen. He was only serving tea and some apple bread that he had made about a week ago, but that was _all _the snooty pianist was getting from him. Secretly, Gilbert hoped that the bread had mold in the center.

"Here's your Goddamned…" but when he entered the room, Gilbert found that there was no one there. Shock kept his body still, but Prussia's mind was going several miles a minute. Where would Austria go? What—?

Gilbert dropped the tray, and rushed up the stairs. "God fucking damnit!"

Once at the top, he realized that his bedroom door was open, and rushed forward. Fear, fury, worry all flared up in Gilbert's chest. It was a sure thing that Roderich had found Germany, the only thing left to be concerned about was what the other kingdom would do once he discovered the boy.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?" Gilbert threw open the door.

Roderich was sitting on the side of the bed and look up with unnaturally calm violet eyes. Austria seemed rather undisturbed, and turned away, dismissing the potential threat. "So this is what you've been hiding," he said softly, stroking Germany's pale golden hair.

Seeing his foe touch his little brother, Gilbert nearly flung himself at the other man in blind rage. He pulled out the pistol he had had when Austria first came from his belt loop, and pointed it at the other man. "Get away from him," his voice dripped with deadly venom. "_Now_!"

Austria did not move. "So this is why France could not find the true remains of the Holy Roman Empire."

"Goddamnit! I said _get away_!" Gilbert cocked his pistol.

Turning cold eyes upon Prussia, Roderich glared daggers at the other man. "So, you just thought that you could claim the remains of Holy Rome, did you? And keep him here while people that actually care about him have to suffer waiting and watching for his return? Did you think that by claiming the body you could gain control over the lands too?"

That was the last straw. Without thinking, Gilbert threw his pistol aside, and lunged at the other kingdom. He grabbed a hold of Austria's throat, and strangled him. "You bastard! You bastard! You don't know what the hell you're saying!"

Somehow, Austria was able to get out of Prussia's hold, and kneed the other man in the stomach. Gilbert stumbled backwards a bit before he tried attacking at the other man again. "Control yourself!" Roderich screamed. "Think of the boy!"

It surprised Austria when Gilbert immediately calmed, and stood panting, but still glaring at his enemy. "Get the hell out," Prussia growled again.

"Not until I get some answers," Roderich slicked back his disheveled hair, panting as well. "Where did you find Holy Rom—"

"This isn't Holy Rome," Gilbert spat. "This is my new little brother."

Amethyst eyes darkened, and Roderich's face contorted into something truly terrible. "Don't insult my intelligence, Gilbert, I know who this is."

Mentally Gilbert cursed. It really was unfortunate that Germany still had to look so much like his former self. He had been hoping that Austria wouldn't look that closely, but there was really no denying Holy Roman Empire and Germany's identical looks. "No you don't," Prussia snapped for the sake of argument. "West is not Holy Ro—"

"Oh, please," Roderich rolled his eyes. "You expect me to believe that you would give the nickname of your deceased brother to someone else?" Gilbert froze. "Give me more credit, I've lived with Holy Rome's house much longer than _you_. I would know that face anywhere."

"Even if this _was _Holy Roman Empire," Gilbert growled, "the boy doesn't remember being Holy Rome. He's Germany now."

"Germany?" Austria looked taken back. "There is no such thing as Germany, as you very well know."

Although he did not really want to give out any information, Prussia could not help but send another jab Austria's way. "Maybe not _yet_." He counted it a victory at the shocked expression on the other man's face. A terrible silence filled the air as the two kingdoms stood staring at each other for a long moment.

"So what you're really trying to say to me is that that child is nothing more than an idea?" Roderich's eyes widened.

Truth be told, Prussia had never really thought of it that way, but essentially, that was correct. The boy's condition suddenly made so much more sense. He was _not_ a territory, that would ensure more stability, the boy was much weaker than that right now. He was an _idea_. Out of the ashes of the Holy Roman Empire, there was the idea of Germany. His brother was desperately fighting for his very existence, even going as far as to reshape himself, so that he could have another chance at life…

"That's absurd!" Roderich went on. "There's no way that a simple ideacould come and be personified! How utterly ridiculous! Not even a territory, a colony, but an _idea_!"

Balling up his fists, Prussia fought to keep more control. "Is it? Is it really so absurd?" he challenged. "Why do you think that a Saxony hasn't come into being? Or a new being from the French-German Confederation? This boy _is _that confederation, for the time being. This boy is the dream of a new, stronger nation. He is _Deutschland_!"

"It is more likely that he is the remains of a dying nation," Roderich spat. "I _know _what the Holy Roman Empire looks like, Prussia, and this boy is that nation. Why do you think he's in such bad condition? I am not sure why he has survived this long, but he has been dissolved as a confederation."

"Yeah, _your _boss took care of that, didn't he?" Gilbert growled.

"That is beside the point! The point here is that this child is the remains of Holy Rome, and he is fading quickly. Soon he will fade completely and all of the land that he had fought so hard to maintain will become part of France permanently." Austria's bluntness was not appreciated by the hurting older brother. "If there is to be anyone to come out of this mess, France will have a new brother. _He _will be the one to bring out a new nation, one that will answer to him."

Every word spoken was like a knife stab in Gilbert's heart. What if it was true? What if Saxony fell into French dominance? What if Saxony was the only thing that was keeping the child alive? What if Germany was destined to become part of France's tyranny? Austria had already said the wine-guzzling bastard was out and about looking for the remains of Holy Rome, which meant France was looking for Holy Rome's successor too.

"Get out," Prussia whispered, his heart heavy.

"Gilbert," Roderich's voice was soft. It appeared that he realized the other man's pain to a certain degree.

"Get out!" Gilbert roared. "How many times do I have to say it? Get the hell out of here!" he charged towards the other man. "I don't want to see your ugly face in here again! Get out! You touch my brother again, I'll kill you, you understand? _Himmel donner wetter,_ I'll burn down your whole fucking country! GET OUT!"

Austria nearly fell down the stairs while trying to get away from the enraged Prussia. Roderich could not remember ever seeing the other man in such a fury before, and he was truly frightened. In battle, Gilbert always seemed at home, happy to fight. In battle, there was always a certain joy to Prussia that sent shivers down his enemies' spin, but not this time. This was pure hatred and anger.

Roderich made it too the door after ducking objects sent hurtling towards him. It seemed whatever Prussia could grab he was throwing at his rival. But once at the door, he spun around to face the ruby-eyed man. "You know that I'm right, don't you, Gilbert? One of these days you're going to have to let the boy go…It's only a matter of time before he's gone completely. I'm only saying this because I want you to realize—"

But Austria was not allowed to finish. He was answered with a porcelain vase from China hurtling towards his head. As fast as he could, Austria rushed out and closed the door. He heard the vase smash as it hit the wooden door.

With as much dignity as he could, the other kingdom left, hoping that he would be able to make it back to his own house safely, without Prussia following him. He had come in hopes that Prussia would take France's advance seriously, but he had come away with so much more information. On his journey home, Roderich had a lot to think about.

Inside, however, Gilbert stood panting and seething. He was so angry, he wanted to kill someone, anyone! His tired mind actually entertained the thought of going after Austria or, better yet, France and slaughtering that disgraceful piece of shit. Maybe if he could re-conquer Holy Roman Empire's land, Germany would get stronger?

But no, it was not the time for that. Gilbert went back up the stairs, ignoring the mess he had made while chasing Austria out, and went back to his little brother's side. As expected, the child was still unconscious, apparently undisturbed with everything that had gone on around him.

"Oh, West," Gilbert sighed, petting the child's soft, round cheek affectionately. "Get better, huh? I'm not sure how much longer I can take you being like this."

Settling down on the bedside, Gilbert prepared himself for yet another long night of suspense, wondering if his brother would ever wake again.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hopefully you all understand now why Germany's in such bad shape. France is taking over his lands, and there is a lot of unrest in what is now Germany at that time. And just a side note, Gilbert lost it because he's exhausted and just had to have a little break down. Hope you did like the protective big brother attitude he's already got going on.

**History**: At the very end on 1805, Austria and Russia join forces to try and stop the French but it does not work. French take control of almost all of the German states and form a confederation in 1806. The states are still allowed to govern themselves, but must acknowledge that Napoleon is over them. It is this time, however, under Napoleon's rule that Germans begin to consider the possibility of their own German nation.

**German: **_kleiner Bruder- _little brother. _Österreich- _Austria. _depp-_idiot. _arschloch_- asshole. _Arschgesicht_- assface. _Wichser-_wanker (not just a British curse :D ) _trottel-_ jerk/stupid. _Himmel donner wetter- _literally translates to "Sky Thunder Weather" but there is no real translation for it. It is typically used at the beginning of an exclamation to show sheer and utter frustration. * While "Frog" is not a German insult, it is an insulting name to call someone from France.

As always, please leave me a review! I'd love to hear from you!...unless you're extremely offended with something I said in this chapter, in which case understand the emotional context in which the characters were speaking and understand all the hatred and dislike/distrust going on...then leave me a review instead of roasting me alive. _ Again, thanks to everyone who does leave a review! Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 6: To the Victor

**Chapter Six: To the Victor**

The morning after Austria had so _generously _come for an unwelcomed visit, Gilbert found himself waking up with the sun already climbing high into the sky. It seemed that after not sleeping properly for several days, along with his outburst last night, he had finally done himself in and he had fallen asleep. He had not wanted to fall asleep at all, his concern over his little brother nearly overpowering him, but his body had desperately needed the sleep.

Sitting up with a groan, Gilbert yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He felt like someone had slapped him in the face several times and his head was still spinning, but he supposed he'd live. He felt stiff and achy, but he knew that he'd survive. He'd gone through worse. So he stretched out his sore arms and popped his neck, feeling better and more like he could handle whatever the day was going to throw his way.

When he glance down at his little brother, Prussia nearly fell out of his chair he was so surprised. Sitting up, with his back propped up against the headboard, was Germany, watching his older brother with an unreadable expression.

"Holy Mary, West!" Gilbert exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing up?"

The bright blue eyes staring into Gilbert's red seemed much too old and worn to belong in the sweet childish face before him. "It's nearly ten o'clock," Germany responded quietly.

The candid answer, spoken as though it were so obvious, nearly sent Gilbert into a fit, whether it would have turned out to be a laughing fit or a crying fit, he was not sure himself. Instead, he smiled gently, hoping that there weren't tears in his eyes, and placed a comforting hand on his brother's smaller one. "How do you feel, Germany?"

The child looked down at the covers, fat tears appearing in his eyes, as he refused to look up at his brother. "Y-you shouldn't call me that," the voice that came out sounded so small and frail to Prussia's ears.

Confused, Gilbert leaned a little closer to his brother. "_Was? _Why shouldn't I call you that? That's your name."

"It's not my name," blue eyes looked anywhere but at the kingdom sitting before them. "I-I'm…just a…" he paused as if truly trying to figure out what he wanted to say. "_Nothing_," he concluded sadly.

Anger flared up inside Gilbert's chest like hot fire. Where had the kid come up with something like that? "You listen here, _Germany_, you are _not _nothing!" he scolded sternly. "You're gunna be a great nation one day once you grow up a little. And, I mean, you're already more of a something than anyone else I know because you're _my _little brother, and that counts for a lot!" He squeezed the child's hand gently, silently begging the boy to look at him. "Why would you ever say such a terrible thing, West?"

The child still refused to look at his older brother even as hot tears rolled down his blushing cheeks. "I don't know." The boy looked down at Prussia's hand which was still holding his, and jerked away, as though the touch was burning him.

Hurt, Gilbert found himself nearly in tears as well. Why was the kid acting this way? "Don't give me that," he snapped, irritated by the boy's bleak outlook and unwillingness to communicate.

Germany jumped a little at the harshness of his big brother's tone, and Prussia almost apologized, but refrained when he saw that boy working his thought out, as though thinking through how best to explain what he was feeling. "I…I had a dream," came the tiny reply.

"A dream?" Gilbert asked softly.

The little boy nodded once and seemed to fall back into his silent reserve. Biting his lower lip, Prussia stood and picked up his little brother carefully. Gilbert tried not to despair over how rigid his brother became when he touched the child, and instead settled himself down on the bed, leaning against the headboard, and placed the small child on his lap. To ease the boy's discomfort, the ruby-eyed man began lightly stroking his brother's pale locks.

"What kind of dream?" Gilbert asked quietly.

Sniffling, it took the child a moment to recompose himself before he was able to speak. "A bad dream," he spat bitterly.

The pain laced into the confession hurt Gilbert's heart. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Deep down Prussia was scared. What if the child hadn't dreamed anything at all? What if the boy had somehow woken up during his and Roderich's fight and overheard what they had been saying and had fallen back asleep right away and only thought it was a dream? If that was the case, what _else _had the child heard? What had the boy _seen_! He prayed that his little brother would talk to him.

But it seemed luck was not on Gilbert's side. Instead of speaking, the child turned his head away and stubbornly looked out the window, tears still slipping free from his eyes silently. It frustrated Prussia that the young boy would not speak, but then again, he was still trying to figure out his little brother. In many ways, Germany was the same as Holy Rome, but there were differences.

It seemed that much like Holy Rome, Germany was still a willful child, one not easily talked into doing something that he did not want to. From the limited time that he had spent with Germany, Gilbert also observed that the child had a keen mind, always curious. In terms of mannerisms, Prussia had picked up that his brother abhorred making a mess which meant that he still retained his "clean freak" attitude that he'd always had. But unlike his former self, Germany was quieter, more thoughtful, it seemed. There was a seriousness to the child that Gilbert did not particularly like, one that Prussia was sure would make the boy unhappy forever if no one watched out for him.

Realizing that the boy was going to keep his peace, Gilbert sighed. "All right," he gave up. "Are you hungry, Germany?"

"Please don't call me that."

Prussia was astonished by the austere reply. A child should not have replied in such a serious tone. "Then what am I supposed to call you?" Gilbert asked carefully, hoping his annoyance wouldn't color his tone. "You want me to just call you 'West'?"

The child remained silent for a moment, as if thinking. "That's fine, I suppose," he nodded quietly.

Frowning, Gilbert decided that the child was still in a sensitive state and it was perhaps better for him to sort through his own turbulent mind himself. If the kid needed him, Prussia would be there. "All right," he nodded again. "But do you want something to eat now? I could make you something."

The little blonde shook his head almost immediately and Gilbert did not like the answer. However, he decided that he'd make something later anyway. The boy was sure to be hungry then, but for the moment, he just wanted to be near his little brother. Whatever was going through the child's mind was closed off to the rest of the world, with no way to read what was inside. Perhaps West just needed some time to think things through himself before he came to terms with everything and would talk.

The two brothers remained sitting quietly for some time, Gilbert gently carding his fingers through his little brother's soft hair. With the warm sunshine filtering through the window and being snuggled up close to his brother's chest, it did not take long before the little boy had fallen asleep in Gilbert's strong arms. When Prussia noticed this, he could not help but smile down lovingly at the child that had turned his whole world upside down again. There was no denying it; he loved the boy.

Getting up as carefully as he could, Gilbert laid the child back down and covered him up snuggly. Something told him that his brother was going to be all right. So, he decided that it was time to wash up, make some breakfast, and then clean the house. He had been neglecting most of it for nearly a week now and the disorganization of it all was really starting to grate on his nerves.

So, with that thought in mind, the kingdom left the room, leaving the door open just in case his brother would call, and decided that it was time to get back to business.

**oOoOoOo**

Seasons changed and everything seemed to go so fast, even though time seemed to crawled by. After Germany's initial fainting spell, the boy began to slowly recover. The only way Gilbert could account for the event was that the child had been seriously hurt as a nation by the war with Napoleon along with the sudden shock of the collapse of the Holy Roman Empire into the Confederation of the Rhine, must have taken a heavy toll on the boy. For that is what Prussia had found out while he spent time with his new brother; it appeared that France and the German nations had formed a confederation before the official dissolution of the Holy Roman.

For not the first time, Gilbert had to shudder at the prospect of being torn apart and stretched into something, someone, completely new. To have a new part of yourself formed while the old lingered on, and then suddenly died… It would be hell for any kingdom, and Prussia could not help but feel sympathy for his brother. What a brutal beginning for one so small.

Although the boy was physically recovering, he still did have nightmares. Several times Gilbert had been woken up by his brother screaming, pleading for something to stop. The first time it happened it had frightened Prussia so bad that he had actually cried himself as he desperately tried to wake his brother from the hellish grasp of the dream. When the boy woke, the child cried hysterically and hugged Gilbert close, as though he were the only thing keeping the blonde in reality.

After that, Gilbert made sure that he kept a small light on every night, hoping that it might chase some of the night terrors away, but that was not the case. While the boy still woke in the night, crying, it was not as bad as it had been the first few times; either that or the boy was slowly getting used to them. But no matter what, Gilbert always made sure that he was there for his brother, and Germany soon became accustom to having someone there to protect him.

But seasons did change, and soon it was December. Germany seemed to be stabilizing and no longer fell ill quite as much as he had in the first couple of weeks since Prussia's rescue. The boy held his peace about his nightmares and Gilbert did not pry. A system was established between the two, and the arrangement was comfortable for the two of them.

For the first time in a long while, Gilbert became truly excited about something. With France's conquest, and after several humiliating defeats on his side, Prussia rejoiced at the prospect of finally being able to settle down for a while and enjoy a nice holiday. He looked forward to spending a Christmas with his little brother. It would be awesome!

Over the three months they spent together, Gilbert found his Germany to be the _perfect_ little brother. The child never seemed to put a foot out of place, never yelled, never threw any tantrums, helped out with the cleaning, was _never _messy, and most importantly, adored Gilbert above anyone else Prussia had come into contact with. Yes, it was great to spend some time with his little brother, getting to know the new West.

There were times when Gilbert wanted to tell his brother about the past, about who and what he had been before he had become…whatever he truly was at the moment. To be honest, Prussia was still not certain if his brother _was _the Confederation of the Rhine, or if he was the remains of the Holy Roman Empire that had not fallen into French hands, which would be Saxony. No news had reached him as of yet if France had found the heir of Holy Rome, which lead to the belief that West was the confederation…and yet Gilbert did not want to believe that his little brother was going to have to follow and obey the Frog.

Gilbert tried not to think so negatively. The reality was that West was with him now and the past several weeks with his brother had been some of the happiest in Prussia's life. The kingdom found it immensely enjoyable to teach his little brother everything that he knew, and sit down and answer any questions that the child had about the world or politics. The little boy was curious and seemed to have a mind for the scientific, always asking questions about the way everything worked, or how to solve some sort of equation, which all pleased the older brother.

But it was in literature that Gilbert took the most delight in sharing with his brother. Although the child's reading level was surprising high, was perhaps on par with Prussia's own, the boy never once declined the idea of sitting in his brother's lap, and letting the ruby-eyed man read to him. On the contrary, the child nearly demanded it, wanting to sit by the fire and nibble on potato pancakes. It was in those times that Gilbert thought he could not have loved having his little Germany more.

However, nothing lasts forever, and Prussia knew that he should have suspected things seemed to be getting too perfect. One week before Christmas there came a smart rapping at his door. It was in the afternoon, and the two brothers had just finished their noon meal when they heard the door. Gilbert got up from studying maps and battle strategies and Germany was sitting on a couch reading a book. "Who's there, _großer Bruder_?" the boy asked, blue eyes wide.

"I don't know," Gilbert shrugged as he walked towards the front door. "You stay here. I'll be right back."

Mentally, the Prussia tried his best to think of who it could be that came to visit, but his mind came up blank. Before he could have opened the door all the way, the knocker pushed his way in. Gilbert stumbled back a bit, and was shocked to follow the form of a very agitated Austria with his eyes. "_Grüß Gott_, _Preußen_," the other kingdom said curtly, not stopping as he marched towards the sitting room where Germany had been left. "We need to talk."

"No wait just a damn minute!" Gilbert cried, storming off to follow his rival.

"There's really no time for pleasantries, Prussia," Austria threw back over his shoulder as he continued on.

The intruder nearly made it completely into living room when he froze. Gilbert was there a second later and grew very angry and nervous as Austria and Germany stared at one another for a long moment. From across the room, the boy blinked several times, blue eyes looking between his brother and the new man standing the in doorway. "_Hallo_," he said after a moment when it became apparent that neither of the adults were going to speak.

It seemed that Austria was taken aback by the act of boldness on the part of the child, and he had to blink several times before a kind smile melted onto his lips. "_Hallo, __kleiner_." Roderich's manner became very gentle. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am _Österreich_."

"I'm _Westen_," the boy nodded once, frowning ever so slightly. To the child, it was interesting to meet someone new. He had only ever been with his brother as long as he could remember, and it seemed like a fun prospect to get to know someone new. On the other hand, Gilbert did not look pleased about the other man standing next to him, which made little German nervous and suspicious.

The smile that had so easily come to Austria's face slipped just a bit at the boy's answer, but he managed to rally his spirits. "Might I come in and join you?"

Gilbert watched as his brother looked from the aristocrat to him and then back again before looking incredibly shy. "I don't know," he said gently, a small blush spreading across his round cheeks. "This is _großer Bruders _house. You should ask him."

Perhaps it was not the most "refined" thing to do, but Gilbert could not help the wicked grin that overcame him at that moment. Between his brother's perfect answer to Austria's shocked face, Prussia could not help but laugh out loud. Who wouldn't? Seeing that stuffy priss Roderich get schooled by a tiny child was just too hilarious.

While Austria turned and scowled at Prussia, Germany simply watched, not fully understanding the situation. "Nice answer, West," Gilbert winked, smiling over at his little brother. He walked past Roderich and towards the boy. "You answered rightly."

With a superior air, Gilbert sat down next to his little brother and put a protective arm around the child's thin shoulders. The little boy stared at his brother for a moment before he looked back over at Austria. Blue eyes hardened as they studied the stranger, and Prussia became suddenly uncomfortable, as it seemed Roderich did as well. The icy eyes seemed to pierce through the other kingdom, as though trying to look at his soul. There suddenly came a wary glint in the boy's eyes, and Gilbert wondered if the child was remembering Austria.

But any recognition that might have been and the too old look in the boy's eyes disappeared and he returned to just a normal child again. It seemed Roderich nearly sagged with relief as his silent examination was over. "Well then," Austria cleared his throat rather awkwardly. "Forgive my impudence then, _Kleiner Herr_," he bowed his head towards the child. "_Herr Preußen_, might I come in to speak to you?" amethyst eyes hardened. "It is really of the utmost _urgency_," he stressed.

Although Gilbert had always vowed to disagree with his stuffy cousin, he could not help but notice the panic in the other's voice. Roderich would not have come to his house unless things had gotten pretty bad with the French war, _especially _after his last visit! Whatever had happened, Austria was more scared of it than Prussia at the moment.

Against his better judgment, the northern kingdom nodded slowly. "I guess you'd stick around even if I did kick you out, huh?" he sighed. "Well, come on then. Sit down. Tell me what you need to tell me." He tried to sound unconcerned.

Austria straightened his coat and walked in with a straight back and sat down opposite the two brothers. Red eyes picked up the tightness of the other kingdom's jaw, the nervous manner that the brunette was trying to mask every time he looked at the boy. "I've come a long way, Prussia, to tell you about something very important. _Kleiner Herr,_" Austria suddenly seemed to change topics. "Would you please retrieve refreshments for your brother and me?"

"Wait just a minute! You can't order him around like that!" Gilbert snapped, furious by Roderich's audacity. "He's not some sort of servant! He's—!"

Gilbert's tirade was ended when he felt his brother's little hand on his own. The older brother looked down to see shining blue eyes staring up at him. They seemed to hold a sort of wisdom in their depths, as though he understood that something important needed to take place and he knew that whatever was going to be said was not for his ears. "I don't mind," Germany said gently before he hopped down from his seat. "I'll be right back with tea," he nodded to Austria before he walked out, leaving the two adults alone.

As soon as the boy was gone, Prussia was about to unleash a string of abuse on Austria, but the other kingdom beat him to the punch. "Saxony's signed with the Confederation," Roderich said blandly.

Anything that he had going to say died immediately on Gilbert's lips. "_Was_?" he whispered in horror. "But wait, that means that West—"

"He's not Saxony nor is he your dreamed Germany," Austria's eyes darkened. "He's the Confederation… France's Confederation."

The albino began shaking his head. "No. You're wrong. There's _no way _that West is that Frog's traitorous Confederation! He likes me! He looks up to me! He's not mentioned France once! He's—"

"He's not sure what he is," Roderich snapped, but he seemed tired. "Or what he _was_ for that matter. He is still young and adjusting to what he is. From what I gather—and correct me if I'm wrong—but all that he seems to remember is you finding him. He hasn't had time to adjust to the reality that he's a nation or a territory or whatever he really is. He didn't have time to meet his own people yet. For all they know, Holy Rome left and never came back."

A cold knot settled in the pit of Gilbert's stomach the longer Austria spoke. A nauseous feeling spread throughout all of his limbs and there was a horrifying moment when he thought that he might get sick right then. But for whatever reason, he managed to control himself. He could not control, however, the way he slumped down in his chair or how his head fell into his hands.

"Then…" he began with a shaky voice. "Then what's going to happen to him?"

For once, Roderich aimed a compassionate glance in Gilbert's direction. Sad velvet eyes took in the sight of the deject Prussia, and the Gilbert almost could not stand the thought of being pitied. But it occurred to the albino that this was perhaps the first time anyone had seen him so down before. For years he had utterly refused to allow anyone to see him when he was not at his awesome peek. He hated looking weak, but at the same time, he was truly in distress and did not care at the moment. It was not _Prussia _that was openly distraught, it was _Gilbert. _

Although Gilbert half expected mockery, for whatever reason, Austria looked the other way at the display of weakness. Instead, he went on, as if Prussia was still acting like his annoying, boastful self. "_Frankreich_ is coming," Roderich sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"_Was!_" the other kingdom sat up.

"He's on his way now as we speak," the brunette nodded sadly. "He'll be here in a few days, I should think."

"Then why the _hell_ are we sitting around?" Prussia demanded. "I need to contact my boss and I'm sure we could raise the army in—"

"He's not come here to fight, Gilbert." Prussia looked over at his rival's dark eyes. "This isn't a military visit. He's come to take what's rightfully his…he's come to take the boy."

At this news, Gilbert slipped out of his chair, and fell to the floor. His ruby eyes were wide with horror and his pale face lost any color it might have had before. Slowly, he began shaking his head, shock clearly reflecting in his eyes. "_Nein_," he whispered. "_Nein, __du lügst_."

"You know that I am not," Austria said softly. "I only came here to warn you…and to make sure you didn't do anything foolish."

Bitter resentment flooded through Gilbert's veins and he could not have stopped it if he'd wanted to. "You just came to see the show, I'd bet," he spat. "Why the hell do you even care? You _hate _me and…and…you just wanted to see West get passed to that _Hurensohn_ France!"

This time, it was Austria's turn to be insulted. His own face crumpled into a look of fury as he glared down at the other kingdom. "You think I _want _to see France just come waltzing in here and take the child? You think I don't care about that boy too?"

"Why should you?" Prussia demanded. It was familiar to fight with Austria in this manner; it made him more relaxed in a way. When he was fighting with his competitor, he was in control; he could lash out and not have to think about the fact that his brother was going to get taken away from him. "You always complained about him! You never cared—"

"_Halt die Schnauze_!" The brunette exploded, surprising the white haired man considerably. "_Der drecksack_!" he raged on. "You think I didn't care about him? How can you honestly say that? _I'm _the one that lived with him for years! I was the one that protected him, helped him, cared for him after _you _left! So don't you _dare _believe that I would want him to get passed off to that _depp _France!"

Such a display of vulgarity by Austria was rare. In fact, Prussia could not remember the last time the other man had gotten so angry that he let the German temperament shine through so thoroughly. Gilbert sat in a stupor for a moment, unable to think clearly with his rampant emotions. He was so angry, so confused that he didn't realize that there were tears in his eyes. "Then why won't you help me keep him?" he asked hoarsely.

There was an intense moment of silence that passed between the two. Carefully, after a few minutes, Roderich stood and walked over to the fallen kingdom. He reached down and held out his hand to his rival. "_Vetter_," Roderich's voice was almost tender. "What can we do?"

Still trembling with anger, Gilbert looked away, unable to stand the sadness and pity coming from Austria's eyes. He was almost unable to keep back his own tears. He knew deep down that Roderich was right. France had rightfully gained control of what had been the Holy Roman Empire, and to the victor goes the spoils. But Gilbert just wished that the spoils, in this instant, didn't have to be his brother.

Taking Austria's hand, Prussia got to his feet, and the two mighty kingdoms simply stared at one another for a long moment, neither one of them seemed comfortable speaking just yet. But the silence was broken when the sound of china jingling caught their ears. They turned to see that the small blonde had once again entered the room.

West looked shy as he carefully balanced the tray of tea in his hands, while trying not to interrupt the adults' conversation. The sight of his little brother nearly undid Gilbert. It broke his heart to think that soon his brother would be ripped away from him and forced to serve in France's house. But he knew he had to be strong for his brother's sake. "You can come in, West," he said kindly.

Bright blue eyes stared at the two men before them with an uncertainty, but a trust that broke both kingdoms' hearts. As the child walked in biting his bottom lip in concentration, Gilbert's heart was heavy in his chest. Dark times were ahead of them all.

* * *

**Author's Note: **There's gunna be a lot of sadness coming this way and soon France will come to join the party. Isn't it nice though to see Gilbert and Roderich actually getting along?...sortta...or at least are both concerned over little Germany.

**History: **Confederation of the Rhine was formed in July 12, 1806 and left the Holy Roman Empire definitively on August 1, 1806. The Holy Roman Empire was dissolved in August 6,1806. December 11, 1806 Saxony signs on to the Confederation.

**German: **_Was?_- What? _großer Bruder-_Big brother. _Grüß Gott-_(lit) Greet God: an Austrian greeting. _Preußen-_ Prussia. _Hallo-_Hello. _kleiner-_little one. _Österreich-_Austria. _Westen-_West. _Kleiner Herr-_little sir. _Frankreich-_ France. _Nein-_No. _du lügst_- you lie. _Hurensohn-_(lit.) whore son: like saying bastard. _Halt die Schnauze-_(lit.) Stop the snout: a very rude way to say 'shut up'. _Der drecksack-_(equ.) scumbad/ dirty bastard. _depp-_idiot. _Vetter- _cousin.

I'm teaching you guys a LOT of bad German words, aren't I? Hmmm...use these wisely, that's all I gotta say. Please leave me a review if you get the chance! Let me know what you think. Thanks everyone! :)


	8. Chapter 7: The Heir of Holy Rome

**Chapter Seven: The Heir of Holy Rome**

The two kingdoms watched sadly as the little boy walked into the room, balancing the tray of tea in his hands, biting his bottom lip in concentration, trying not to spill the contents, before setting it out on the table Gilbert had been using to study maps. Once that task was complete, the boy glanced up at the adults before looking back down. With his task discharged, he resumed his seat on the couch, and picked up the book he had been looking through.

Watching from underneath his bangs, the little boy waited to see what would happen next. While preparing the tea, he had heard several loud, explosive shouts coming from both his brother and the man that called himself Austria. The moment the front door had been opened, the blonde knew that his brother and this man did not get along. Both kingdoms looked rigid around each other, hatred masked with a thin veil of barely civil courtesies. It did not take a genius to figure out that whatever business Mr. Austria had come to discuss with Prussia, it had to be of great importance. Why else would he have risked coming to his rival's house otherwise?

So, Germany waited. If they were not finished discussing whatever it was that they had been and did not want him there, then they would think of something else to send him to do or tell him directly to leave. If they did not, then he would stay and perhaps get to listen to the conversation. He was curious to know what it was that was being discussed so passionately by both men.

He watched carefully as the guest looked over at his brother with a strange expression. It almost looked like the brunette was sending a silent message to the albino, but from his angle, the boy was not sure how to make it out. It almost appeared as though Austria was begging for Prussia to do something, wanted him to say something…

The boy was startled by his ability to read the stranger so well. From the moment he first saw Austria, little Germany had the oddest feeling that he had seen the other kingdom before. There was something in the aristocrat's air that struck a familiar cord with the boy. The voice sounded eerily well-known as well, and for an instant, he believed that he had once loved this man like a brother too…

But that was ridiculous! The only person that Germany had ever seen was his big brother Prussia. Gilbert was the one that had come to save him when he was at his lowest, when he had no memory of who or what he was. It had been the white haired man that had taken him in, clothed him, fed him, made him a brother! Whoever this other man was, he was _nothing _compared to Gilbert!

Whatever the reason for his being able to read the stranger, Germany attributed it to having a knack for such things. And so he waited. He wanted to know what was going on, and it seemed that Mr. Austria wanted him to know too. The only delay happened to be Prussia, who looked like a mix between nauseous and furious. It actually scared the boy to see his brother in such a state. Had the visitor really done something terrible? What could it have been to unnerve his brother so badly?

"West," Gilbert said after a moment. It was not so much the look on his brother's face that grabbed the boy's attention so much as the tone of voice Prussia had chosen to use. While his brother had spoken softly, Germany could not help the sense of dread that suddenly flooded throughout veins. There was something going on…something terrible.

"_Ja_?" the boy answered looking up when his brother failed to continue.

Another glance was exchanged between both Austria and Prussia before the northern kingdom went and sat down next to his little brother. Austria excused himself from the room completely. The boy's fears nearly doubled. There was something horribly wrong.

"West," Gilbert said again, opening his arms for his little brother. The offered comfort was readily accepted and the blonde climbed into his brother's embrace. "Do you remember me telling you about a man called Napoleon?"

Now, snuggled up next to his brother's warm chest, Germany did not feel so very scared anymore. He liked it when Prussia let him sit on his lap, and liked to listen to the other's strong heart beats. There was even something comforting about the familiar scent of sweat, cotton, and beer. Now that he was safe in his brother's arms, he could push down his qualms and think on the question. "Yes," he nodded once.

It confused the child when his brother's breath seemed to hitch in his throat. "Do you remember when I told you that he wasn't a very good man? And that his nation's name was France?"

"Yes." Why was his brother asking him all of these questions? What did it matter? Gilbert was the strongest nation that had ever been _ever_. Gilbert had told him so! Why should Germany worry about France and his leader when he had Prussia on his side? His big brother was going to keep him safe. It was not a matter of hope, but of fact in the child's mind. Germany knew this. His brother would always care for him.

In his childish line of logic, little _Deutschland_ firmly believed that everything would be all right as long as he had his brother. Listening to Prussia's heart beat calmed the little boy, allowed him to shut out the rest of the world and be at peace. He just could not understand why Gilbert seemed so sad when everything seemed so right.

"France…"the nation tried to continue. "France has won a lot of battles recently…has made surprising amounts of friends in his conquest. He's managed to take a lot of the land that once belonged to the Holy Roman Empire."

Yes, yes, Germany knew this all ready! Gilbert had been teaching him a lot of lessons recently, and it was the boy's primary goal to learn everything that he could and commit it to memory. He was very good at history, having a talent for picking it up right away and retaining everything that was learned. There were times when the child believed that he might have known some of the thing from before, but then he could never be too sure. But as far as everything his brother was telling him at the moment, he knew it all.

"Well," Gilbert went on after a moment. "He's been looking for Holy Rome's heir recently…since most of that land has now come under his control…"

When the child peeked up, he was stunned. Prussia had tears in his eyes! "_Großer Bruder!_" he exclaimed worriedly. "_Was ist los?_" He was very concerned. Something dreadful must have happened.

Ruby eyes looked down, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. In those sad eyes, the little blonde saw pain, regret, anger, and sorrow all swirling around in a fiery tempest of crimson. Whatever happened, it was hurting his brother awfully.

"West_,_" Prussia's voice grew even softer. "_Österreich _has come here to warn me that France is coming here and will be arriving in a few days."

That was bad news indeed, frightening news even, but for some reason, Germany was not all that scared of it. He knew his brother would never allow this France person to beat him in his own house; that was just not something Prussia would tolerate! What he was really afraid of was his brother's so-far unnamed fear. There was something Gilbert was trying to delay telling him, and it was on this lacking piece of information that the child dreaded.

"_Burder, _what is it?" he probed. He could not stand the tension any longer. He was concerned about his brother and about what everything meant. Why was Gilbert telling him all of this?

At last, a fat tear escaped its damn, and rolled down Prussia's pale cheek. "_You_ are the heir of the Holy Roman Empire…France is coming here to take you away from me."

A million thoughts sprang into the child's head at once, a million questions. Horror, anger, resentment, and fear were only a few emotions that Germany could label that bubbled up inside him, yet there were many others that he could not. He wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to do things he couldn't find a name for. He was so confused that his head began to swim and he felt suddenly very heavy, as though he were made of lead. But of all the swirling questions, all the emotions, all he could utter was, "What?"

It appeared that once the initial tear had been shed, others swiftly joined the rebellion and ran from Gilbert's claret eyes. The older man took a deep, shaky breath and bit his lower lip for a moment, trying to compose himself again. "F-France is coming here to claim you as his territory…his confederation."

Tears seemed to appear out of nowhere and flood down from the child's eyes as well. "Why?"

It was a simple question, one that should not have taken a lot of thought, but it seemed the answer was much more complex then the child had originally believed judging by his brother's own face. Whatever the answer, Gilbert did not seem too keen on explaining it to the boy. The kingdom looked panicked, looked like he might just get up and run away to hide, like the question had burned him. It was terrible to see on Prussia's features, but Germany could not help but stare at his older brother. He wanted answers to ease his confusion.

"I…" the albino faltered. "He…he won, West. What else is there to know?"

Deep down, there seemed to be a voice telling the child that this was just how the world worked, that this was how the life of a nation operated: control or be controlled. If you were conquered you took the punishment given and became a slave. That was how nations worked. That was what it meant to be a nation. It did not seem fair, did not seem particularly right, but that was simply how it was.

Nations were built on cruel dominations, oppressions, rebellions, and blood. To become a nation one had to sacrifice others, had to kill. Out of the deaths of many, a nation rose out of the carnage to watch over the people that had created it. Although unsteady at first, it was of prime importance to stand firm and prepare for the onslaught of wars that were sure to come their way. To gain strength meant to expand, govern, dominate over those around you before they conquered you. If you failed to do so, you were rendered weak and forced into servitude and debt.

Yes, deep down the child knew this, knew how hard the world was, how the life of a state worked; and yet, there was a part of him that wanted to remain naïve, wanted to turn a blind eye to such things and simply live his life in peace. But times were troubled and he did not have the luxury to play a fool. He knew what his brother had meant, he knew that it was his duty to go with the kingdom that ruled over his lands, but he could not help but despair all that same.

Crying harder now, the boy buried his face into his brother's chest and simply wept. There was nothing else to know. He knew. And soon, he would have to leave the comfort of his brother's caring arms and be pasted to France; to someone he did not know.

"I don't want to leave!" the child cried in anguish. "I-I don't want t-to leave!"

He felt Gilbert tighten his arms around him securely, and rock back and forth. "I know," the older man whispered. "I know."

They both knew what was going to happen; both understood what had to be done. Neither were the types of people or nations to fool themselves into thinking that all would be well if they simply looked the other way. Neither one would dare lie to themselves. Because of this, reality was all the more bitter; it hurt so much more, because neither could find any hope in the situation.

**oOoOoOo**

From the hallway, Roderich peeked into the living room. What he saw nearly broke his heart. The sight of Prussia rocking the tiny blonde child back and forth, crying even as the child was. It was almost enough to send him over the edge. It was heart-wrenching. And yet there was a part of Roderich that was wildly jealous.

The first time that Austria had stumbled across the child nearly three months ago, he knew that the child was Holy Rome, even if Gilbert had been unwilling to admit it. Seeing that boy the same as he had been years ago, truly upset the southern kingdom. Although he did not always show it, he had loved Holy Roman Empire as much as anyone could. That child had been like a brother to him. They had played music together at times, talked about nearly everything, and even baked together. It was little wonder Roderich came to feel quite covetous of his rival.

With a heavy sigh, the brunette looked away. Deep down he knew it was not right for him to feel so envious. Holy Rome, in almost every way, was dead now, and this boy in Prussia's house was his replacement. There was no doubt in Roderich's mind that this new child and his little brother Holy Rome were the same nations, but they were different _people _it seemed. This new child did not remember Austria or his impressive 1,006 year reign in the world. This new child only remembered being found by Prussia.

…And now this same child was going to have to remember being taken away from his claimed brother by France and live under the Frenchman's rule. As a new confederation, the child was going to have to learn how to take orders and learn not to speak out. The boy had gone from the very top, the mighty Holy Roman Empire, to a confederation that didn't have a healthy go at life in the beginning, a weak underling that could not even remember his own past or beginning. It was sad, really.

Times were hard and Roderich knew that they were about to get that much more difficult. Looking at Prussia, so obviously hurting at the thought of losing the child, Austria knew that the northern kingdom was not going to sit by ideally while France exhorted authority over the Germans. In fact, the aristocratic nation had an uneasy feeling that his rival was not going to rest until he won back what he believed was rightfully his.

**oOoOoOo**

That night, after an exhausting, highly emotional day, Gilbert put his little brother to bed. The kingdom could not help but notice how peaceful his little brother looked. With his soft blonde hair and pale skin, he reminded the tenacious kingdom of a little angel. A bitter taste leaked into his mouth as he thought of how soon France would come to claim the child. In the beginning, Prussia had managed to stay neutral in the war, but looking down at his sleeping brother, who had cried himself to sleep, Gilbert knew that he was in for a long, bitter fight. He was not going to let France dominate that easily. His government had already launched several attacks while he cared for West.

For a while, the older nation simply sat at watched his brother sleep. It made him ill to think that soon this little boy would be taken away from him and forced under that damned Frog's control! It was just so unfair! Gilbert had been the one to find the boy! Gilbert had saved him, giving him food, a house, everything! All that bastard France had done was send his leader out to take over some land…_West's _land, that was. None of them had any interest in helping, supporting, or caring for the child!

A sudden wave a rage overcame Gilbert at that moment. He saw only red and he wanted to badly to just kill someone or something. He hated the thought that his little brother would no longer be his, that the boy would be forced into servitude by France! There was a moment when he nearly began destroying his room in a fit.

But however furious he was, the albino also knew that there were certain protocols that came when being a nation. He knew very well that if someone conquered your lands, you were forced into a slave-like existence under that other country. Gilbert himself had been under control many times before, forced into serving others until the fateful day when he rose up and became a dominate player in the world and took control for himself. He hoped that his brother might one day do the same.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Gilbert tried to steady his breathing. He was livid, that was certain, but he was also sad. His poor tiny brother. In a way, he supposed the child was lucky. In all of his many years of life, the boy had only ever changed identities once now. He was born the Holy Roman Empire and now he was going to have to become the Confederation of the Rhine. That was not such a bad history. There were other nations out there that had to change much more or be faced with dissolution.

Gilbert, on the other hand, had had his share of changes in life and was actually much older than anyone might suspect. He had come about in the sixth century, while his father Germania was still struggling for existence. He could still remember a time when he had been a pagan, having been ruled by the infamous King Widewuto and his brother. There had been many fights between himself and other nations about Christianity and the like before he finally succumbed to the Teutonic Knights. At that time it had been between the choices of changing or dying and Gilbert had no desire to bow off of the world's stage so soon and he had become one of the knights. He had done his far share of fighting again the rest of the world's pagans. A part of him had wanted this to make up for centuries of sins he'd collected.

There was a part of him that was saddened at the fact of forsaking his father's old ways of life. He could still remember Germania's face when he watched his last child take the name and religion of his most hated enemy. _"The Holy Roman Empire?" _the deep voice still rung in Gilbert's ears. It had been sad and disgusted. _"Then may the gods bless you, son, for taking a mighty name… for I cannot."_

It had seemed like the end of the world then for Gilbert, to watch his little brother go so contrary to their father's way of life. But the other boy had actually made something of himself, Gilbert supposed, and had even, at one point, put his older brother under his control! By naming himself as Holy Roman Empire, the boy had gone far in the world, though he had tried to forsake his father's traditions. In a way, it had been Holy Rome that had finally killed Germania while promoting his divine rule over the land.

But that was not something Prussia liked to think about all that much. He did not blame his little brother for their father's death. Germania had been sick for years, slowly being killed off by young upstarts and the might of Rome crashing down upon him. In a way, Gilbert always suspected that his father had been relieved when Holy Rome had been born, relieved and glad that the young nation would soon be taking his place. Perhaps that's why Prussia had never been too bitter or angry with his little brother before, because he'd known it was what their father wanted deep down. Maybe that's why Gilbert felt so protective over the child, because this was truly his father's legacy, his replacement…

Shaking his head sadly, Gilbert tried to get out of his depressing memories. There was no point in thinking about the past like that, not when the future needed his undivided attention. In the back of his mind, the ruby-eyed nation began making plans and plotted on how to get his little brother back. France would have to be taken out quickly, and the lands within the Confederation would have to be secured—

"_Bruder?_"

The tiny voice shattered the silence like a shot fired from a rifle. Gilbert jumped, but quickly calmed once he realized the source of the sound. With a gentle smile, he looked upon his young brother. _Großer Gott_ the boy did look like their father! "Yes, West?"

Blue eyes bore into red, and the older nation could tell that the little one was upset. Who wouldn't be after finding out that they were going to be forcibly taken from their home? But those same blue eyes seemed to clamp down on the emotions he felt and stay strong in the face of his older sibling. "Don't leave me yet," the child whispered.

It broke Gilbert's heart to listen to the soft plea, but he nodded. "I'm not going to leave you, West." _No matter what, _he added to himself.

The boy was silent for a moment before the older kingdom heard sniffling from under the covers. "I don't want to leave you again," came a muffled entreaty from underneath.

Standing up, Gilbert carefully picked up his little brother and sat back down on the bed. As became a custom of theirs, Prussia set the boy in his lap and began rocking back and forth smoothly. With all the tenderness he could muster, the albino rubbed his little brother's back, just holding the boy, willing him to see that he was not alone. "I know." The voice that came from Gilbert's throat sounded tight and stretched. "I-I don't want you to leave either. But you and I are not human…not really. We have our duties to our land and our people. That's why we must give up so much, why we must suffer sometimes."

The boy continued to cry into his brother's chest. Gilbert began carding his hand through the silky fair locks soothingly, tightening his grip on the child. "Hush, West. It'll be all right. We'll see each other again."

"_Nein_!" the child whimpered. "_Nein_! I don't want to go. I'll be lost again and then I'll forget you and-and _you'll _forget me."

The revelation of the blonde's thoughts startled Prussia so bad he nearly yelled at the child, wanting to scream that he would never— _could _never forget his brother, but he managed to swallow down his harsh counterarguments. "It'll be okay, West," he said again as evenly as possible. "Even if you do forget me, just know now that I'll _never _forget you." Blue eyes peeked up and locked onto crimson. "I didn't forget you last time, did I?"

Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, little _Deutschland _shook his head. "No," he admitted.

"That's right," Gilbert smiled. "Because I'm the awesome Prussia, and I won't forget about my West!"

It seemed that the little confederation was considering this carefully, thinking on his brother's words attentively in his mind, before he looked at Gilbert again. "_Nein,_" the child whispered. "You could forget about _me_," he stressed. "You'll soon forget about _me_. I'm not even a proper nation. What if I get…get dissolved? You wouldn't remember me."

That's when it hit Gilbert. West wasn't so concerned about being forgotten as _West, _as a territory, he was scared about being forgotten as a _person_. Since he had found his little brother in the woods, Prussia realized that he had only been calling the boy by either his territory name or by his general location in relationship to him. While the older nations and kingdoms did not mind being called by their countries' names, it could be very upsetting for someone so young, still trying to balance their humanity with their nationality.

"West, I…I won't forget about _you_ the person," the kingdom said sternly. "I'm your awesome big brother! I could never, _will _never forget about you."

"But Gilbert!" the child looked up with miserable eyes. "No one really knows what I am…I mean…you told me that I'm the Confederation of the Rhine, but what does that really mean? Confederations are very loose ally systems that could break apart easily if the kingdoms involved saw it fit. I could blink out of existence at any time and no one would have ever known me!"

It was frightening to listen to the child speak. The small state's understanding of the world was much better than it should have been for someone so small. Yet, the boy had already lived for so many forgotten centuries that it did not surprise Gilbert all that much that his brother knew and understood so much that should have been out of his reach had he been a truly newborn nation. West had picked up all of Prussia's teaching so rapidly that it only affirmed the kingdom's suspicion that the child was Holy Rome. But it still upset the older realm to know his brother already understood the cruelties of the world.

"Holy Rome was like a Confederation too, you know," Prussia said softly, thus grabbing the smaller boy's attention. "And you know what? He survived for a very long time. Just over a thousand years. I don't think that you'll fade away so soon, kid, especially since _I_ won't let you."

"But I'm going away with France soon!" the child cried. "You won't be there—"

"I might not be in the same house as you, West, but I'll _always _be there for you," Gilbert said firmly. "You might not know it, but I've always kept my eyes out for you. You might have to go with that Frog for now, but not for long. I'll see to that," he vowed.

That seemed to calm the child considerably, knowing that his big brother was not going to simply leave and forget about him while he was in the clutches of France. The relief that spread across the little boy's face cheered Gilbert's heart, and he knew that he had finally reached his brother. While he still had his own worries and doubts about the way things would turn out in the end, he was at least happy that he could ease West's fears to some degree.

"Hey," Gilbert smiled vibrantly. "I've got an awesome idea!" Blue eyes sparkled with curiosity as they stared up. "You're a growing boy, strong and healthy now. I think it's time that we come up with a name for you, West! A personal name."

The child's eyes brightened considerably as they widened, gazing up at his big brother as though he were a saint. "R-really? I'll get a name like you, Gilbert?"

"Yeah! Why not?" the white haired man shrugged. "You know what you are now and I think it's time we come up with a name for you. A proper name; one that you keep in your heart and share only with those closest to you."

The little confederation nodded his head enthusiastically; all tears seemed to have been put on hold for the time being. "_Ja_! I would like that very much, Gilbert!"

"Okay!" Prussia grinned, getting excited about the prospect of coming up with a new name for his brother. "What name do you want, kid?"

A horrified expression passed over the child's face as he stared up at his brother. "I-I don't know…can't you pick one out for me, Gilbert? You would know what would sound good and what wouldn't."

For a nation, a personal name was something very special, something that was thought over thoroughly and not rushed. When nations decided to name themselves, it was done for personal pleasure, something that was seen as a very personal act. It was sort of like receiving a Christian name among humans. Gilbert had come up with his own name after he had been taken over by the Teutonic Knights. He remembered it as being one of the proudest days of his life, knowing that he had made a name for himself.

"I don't know, West," Prussia shook his head. "Don't you want to think of a name yourself?"

Hastily the boy shook his head back. "No. I want you to name me, _großer Bruder_!" The little child smiled brilliantly up at his brother. "You know what would sound good and what wouldn't," he repeated.

A blush suddenly spread across Gilbert's face. Never before had he ever received such a lovely complement. Did the boy realize what a great honor he was giving his older brother by allowing him to come up with a name? In the realm of kingdoms, there was no higher form of flattery or trust.

"A-all right," Gilbert couldn't help the tears of delight that stung his eyes. "If you're sure," he added quickly.

At the little boy's eager nod, Prussia decided that he had no choice. He could not decline as that would be an extreme insult, and although Gilbert was always keen to push the limits and offend others when he thought he could get away with it, he had _no _desire to test it this time. This was his little brother, after all! To insult one's own family was worse than…well…anything he could actually think of at the moment!

"Let's see here then," Gilbert said out loud so the boy knew he was thinking. Settling back against the pillows, the ruby-eyed kingdom began pondering over all the possible names he could give to his younger brother.

Holy Rome, Gilbert recalled, had been given an individual name by their father, Germania, soon after he was born. At first, Prussia recalled being extremely jealous that their father had personally taken it upon himself to name the youngest member of the family, the one that was slowly killing him; but that was because he had not seen the cunning selfishness behind it at the time. While it had seemed a great gift, it was, in part, a haunting burden that had always stayed with the Empire until the end.

Gerwig had been Holy Roman Empire's name, a name derived from his father's culture. Germania had named his youngest as a way of reminding the world of the boy's heritage; that once upon a time the lands that now claimed holiness had not always been quite as holy as they'd all like to believe. While Gilbert had been free to name himself, Holy Rome had been force under the weight of their father's name, always trying to hide the fact that his lands had once been pagan and so weak under the might of Rome. Because of this, Gerwig had always gone by Holy Rome as his name, wanting his people to believe he was great and just like Rome. Prussia wondered if he had been the only one to actually know his brother's real name.

Looking down at the blonde sitting comfortably in his lap, Gilbert was tempted to rename his brother Gerwig, as a sign of respect to their father and for the great empire he had once been, but decided against it. His brother no longer remembered that side of himself and it did not seem fair to give him the name of another, even if the other had really been him in a past life. In Prussia's eyes, it was like setting a standard, as though by renaming the boy Gerwig, he would then be overshadowed by his former self and might torment himself over the fact that he was no longer great. The boy might try to live up to his past reputation, and that was not what the child needed. This boy needed to look to the future, not the past.

A self-satisfied smile slowly slipped onto Gilbert's lips as a name suddenly stuck out in his mind. "Ludwig," he said, shattering the silence.

The boy in his lap looked up at him in curiosity. "_Was_?"

Grinning down at the child, Gilbert's chest puffed up in pride as he stared down into the face of his little brother. "Ludwig," he repeated. "You name is Ludwig now."

"Ludwig," the blonde repeated quietly.

"Yes," Prussia nodded. "No matter what happens to you, what you may change into, you will always be Ludwig, _mein kleiner Bruder_." He paused. "Do you like your new name?"

A brilliant smile appeared on the boy's face, brightening the entire room, gladdening Gilbert's heart the moment he saw it. Secretly, he thought that it was perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "_Ja_," the boy—Ludwig—said calmly, but with a happiness behind the voice that Prussia had never heard before. "_Danke schön, Bruder_."

The thanks received warmed Gilbert like the sun in the spring time after a long cold winter. For just a moment, he forgot about all of the troubles in the world and could breathe easily while he was with his brother.

Kissing the top of his brother's golden head, Gilbert smiled as he moved to tuck the child back into bed. Once all snuggled in, the kingdom kissed the boy's forehead and smiled down affectionately. "_Gute Nacht_. _Schlaf schön_, Ludwig"

"_Gute Nacht, _Gilbert," Ludwig's voice was soft, but there was still a smile in the voice.

And so, the day finally concluded after much heartache and turmoil. Gilbert stayed with his brother as the child slept, and watched over him

. While it was true that France was on his way, at the moment, the two brothers were happy. They still had one another, and they knew they always would.

**Author's Note: **Okay, just a quick note here. First of all, in this, Ludwig is vaguely remembering little snippets of facts, people, dates, ect. but it's almost all simply things that he's studied in the past, things like school work that he remembers. He sort of remembers Roderich, but if he thinks too hard on the familiar, it usually hurts him so he doesn't dwell on it. I also made Roderich and Holy Rome's relationship a bit sweeter in this too. Roderich loved Holy Rome like a little brother (same the other way around) but he does not quite know what to think of Ludwig yet. And I'm calling Ludwig "Germany" even though he's really the Confederation of the Rhine because mentally that's sort of what he thinks of himself as...it'll be important later on, I assure you.

**History: **While I adore Gilbert being the older brother, I was also struck with the fact that Holy Roman Empire came before the kingdom of Prussia, so I did a lot of research on the origins of Prussia, and to my delight, I found a juicy little tidbit that goes something like this: the name "Prussia" was derived from "Pruteno", the chief priest of Prussia who's brother was the legendary King Widewuto, who lived in the 6th century. The regions of Prussia and the corresponding tribes are said to bear the names of Widewuto's sons. Prussia was a pagan nation which was not fully converted until the pope called the Teutonic Knights in to take control of the land in the Prussia Crusade. There, the Knights built up the Teutonic Order state. So...in my line of thinking, since the Holy Roman Empire was founded in AD 800, that still makes Prussia the older brother. :P

**German: **_Ja- _Yes. _Deutschland-_Germany. _Großer Bruder- _big brother. _Was ist los?- _commonly used to mean 'what is wrong?'. _Österreich- _Austria. _Großer Gott- _Great/might God. _Nein- _No. _Was?- _What? _mein kleiner Bruder- _my little brother. _Danke schön- _lit. Thank you beautifully- (an out dated way of saying 'thank you very much', but since the story is in 1806 at this time, I figured I could still use this). _Gute Nacht- _Good night. _Schlaf schön- _lit. Sleep beautifully- sleep well.

**Names: **Gerwig- an old Germanic name that is no longer used, meaning "spear fighter/warrior": I used it one, because it similar to Ludwig, and two, because it really is an old Germanic name. Ludwig- "famous warrior". For those of you wondering, Gilbert- "bright pledge".

As always, please leave me a review if you liked anything about this. Let me know what you think of Gilbert's thoughts about Holy Rome and his father. They may spring up again in the future *hint hint* But if there's anything you guys can think of to make this seem better, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks a bunch! :)


	9. Chapter 8: Noël

**Chapter Eight: Noël **

The week that followed after learning that he would soon be taken away by France, Ludwig spent in surprising relative peace. Austria—or rather, Roderich, he had found out the other's personal name— had been staying in Prussia's house, claiming that he wanted to stay to provide support once France made his appearance on Prussian soil. Although the boy could still tell that his big brother and Austria were not on the best of terms, Gilbert did not kick the pianist out, but seemed to grudgingly accept the backing offered.

During his last few days among his brother, Ludwig spent them pleasantly listening to Gilbert's lessons in history or literature. His favorite times were when his big brother told him fairy tales. His favorite story was _Der goldene Vogel_, and Gilbert was ever so dramatic when reading it. The boy thought that perhaps the best part was when Prussia did the different voices for all of the characters, the fox being the funniest of all. It was even better to listen to when he could hold his brother's little yellow bird so he could pretend it was the golden one in the story.

But while it was great spending his time with Gilbert, the boy also got to know a little bit about Roderich as well. While Prussia kept a harpsichord in his home, he did not know how to play it very well, if at all. Ludwig had asked his brother why he had it then, but Gilbert had just laughed and said, "Why not?" The child was learning that his brother tended to collect an array of different objects that served no real purpose sometimes. Although it had been a disappointment that Gilbert could not play, it had been with great delight that one morning Ludwig had woken up to find Roderich at the instrument.

For hours Ludwig would sit behind the Austrian and listen to the sweet melodies that he played. Gilbert would usually have business to take care of at that time and would leave his brother to the brunette's care, figuring that it would all right to leave him alone with the Austrian since the other man focused on his music and all but forgot about the child that sat behind him quietly listening. But Ludwig did not mind, he liked the differences between his big brother and the other man. They were so different and he was learning a lot of different perspectives from them.

But all good things must soon come to an end unfortunately. It was Christmas Eve and news reached the home of Prussia that France would be arriving in the morning. No one was pleased with the news, and when the messenger had delivered his message, Gilbert had been so furious that he had literally thrown the other man off of his steps and screamed abuse at him. Ludwig did not know what exactly was said because Roderich had come over and covered his ears.

Once Gilbert had come back inside, red in the face with anger, his ruby eyes glistening with fury, the little boy walked out of Austria's reach and went to place a hand over his older brother's own trembling fist.

"It's going to be okay, _Bruder._" Ludwig tried to put on a brave face. He didn't want his brother to do something foolish or be sad on account of him.

All anger seemed to flush from the albino's face instantly, and became its natural pale. "S-sure it is!" he exclaimed. It was painful to see a smile forced out that much. "Everything's going to be just_ fine_."

"We should still get going to services," Roderich spoke up quietly from behind. "It begins soon."

"R-right," Prussia nodded almost too vigorously. "You need to go finish getting dressed, _Kleiner Herr._" Gilbert's laugh was stale and completely mirthless.

It brought tears to Ludwig's eyes to see his brother in so much pain, but he did not know what to tell the older nation. With a miserable nod, he quit the room and went to finish getting ready for church.

**oOoOoOo**

The next morning, after a sleepless night had by everyone, Gilbert rolled out of bed around four in the morning and began getting dressed. West, the poor kid, had cried almost the whole night while trying not to show it. Now, however, the boy was sound asleep, having worn himself out. For a moment, Gilbert let a smile creep onto his lips as he watched his little brother sleep. Damn the boy looked like an angel!

Finishing his dressing, the white-haired man tiptoed out of his room and walked down the stairs. He thought he had been quiet, but Austria must have already been awake too, and soon enough the pianist, too, crept down the stairs not all that long after. For just a moment, the two kingdoms stared at one another.

"So," Roderich spoke first. "Today's the day, isn't it?"

Gilbert paled. "_Ja_…I guess it is."

An awkward silence filled the room.

"Listen, Gilbert—" Austria began.

"Don't, Roderich," the other shook his head. "Just…don't. I don't…I mean, it's not like I'm never going to see him again, right? He'll still be around."

Roderich was taken aback by the trust and honesty Gilbert was giving to him. Normally the other nation was proud and cocky, ready to defend himself and his strength to anyone— whether they wanted to hear about it or not. But now it seemed that the other nation was finally at wits end and he didn't seem to care so much about what Austria thought of him. At the moment, Gilbert was not interested in looking the most intimidating or the most powerful, he was more concerned about the little boy that was still asleep in his bed.

"True," the brunette nodded once, slowly. "You and the boy will see each other again, I'm sure. He'll grow up and—"

"And grow up to be as _awesome _as his _Großer Bruder!_" Gilbert exclaimed, not sounding completely sure, but a little worried.

"I'm sure." Roderich's face betrayed concern for the other nation. "You…you have talked to him about what it means to be under another country's rule, haven't you? We both know things might not be…particularly pleasant for the boy the first few years."

"Of course I have!" Gilbert exclaimed, ignoring the other's tone. It sounded far too anxious for Prussia's liking. "He's a brave little guy and he'll do fine. And he knows that if that bastard France tries anything—"

"You shouldn't teach him to be rebellious, _Preußen,_" the other kingdom admonished. "You and I don't fully understand how France has changed, and he might not be the same arrogant twit we've grown up with. He could be something worse now. And besides, teaching him to rebel when he doesn't even remember anything from before is a bad idea. He's a new state and he should learn other things before rebellion. It'll only cause trouble for him in the future."

"I didn't say I told him to rebel," the albino snapped, becoming more like his normal self when in a fight. "I just told him that everything would turn out okay and that if that Frog did anything too…bad, well then, big brother Prussia won't stand for it."

Gilbert turned away from the Austrian in an attempt to hide his own misgivings about the situation. Instead, he walking into the kitchen and looked through the food that he had on hand. What would his little brother like to eat his last morning with Prussia? He wanted it to be good German food before the child was lost in a sea of French culture. He thought he had some potatoes lying around…

While Prussia looked through his foods, he noticed that the brunette left him alone, apparently realizing that he was not wanted. It was fine with Gilbert. He didn't want the other around. The northern kingdom was in no mood to deal with anyone at the moment. He found himself wishing that he would suddenly just wake up and realize that all of this news about France had been just some sick, twisted dream and that that bastard Frog hadn't taken over a large part of his land or that his little brother wasn't going away.

The Prussian balled his hands into tight fists. He just wanted so badly to hurt someone! It had been humiliating being overcome by French troops like he was, and what was worse was that his government hadn't even felt it necessary to tell him about some of the attacks. It was at these times that Gilbert really missed Old Fritz. Fritz would've never kept him in the dark about anything, but it seemed _König_ Friedrich Wilhelm III was inclined into doing that.

Snorting, Gilbert tried putting his full attention back into his search of making the perfect breakfast for his brother. The sound of the harpsichord playing floated throughout the house, alerting Prussia to the location of his guest. While he thought it rude and obnoxious how Austria just made himself at home, the other kingdom couldn't deny that he loved the music the pianist played. Despite being a complete ass most of the time, Roderich did make beautiful music.

Deciding ham and eggs would be a hearty breakfast, Gilbert began frying up eggs and large pieces of ham for everyone. Not ten minutes later, the albino turned around to find his little brother sitting at the kitchen table waiting quietly. The boy's face looked paler than normal and was very grim. Blue eyes watch his older brother intently, not seeming to really notice that the other had stopped his cooking and was now watching him as well.

Feeling as though he should say something, Prussia tried his very best to smile. "_Guten Morgen,_ _West_!" His voice didn't come out as cheerful as he had wanted it to.

The boy looked startled when his brother spoke, as though he had been taken completely by surprise. But the expression of terror fled instantly when his eyes seemed to refocus on the speaker. "_Guten Morgen_," he responded back emotionlessly.

It unnerved the albino how much the little boy did not even seem to feel, but he tried his best not to show his own fear or worry. Ludwig did not need to know about anyone else's misgivings or sense their own emotional distress, he had enough of his own at the moment.

"I made you some breakfast," Gilbert tried once more to be as upbeat as he could. But with his own sorrow and seeing his brother's deject face made it hard. "It's pretty awesome. Made it myself from my secret special recipe."

"_Danke_," the blonde nodded, as though not really listening to what his older brother was saying.

"Oh come on, West!" Gilbert sat down next to his brother, putting a friendly arm around his tiny shoulders. "It's Christmas after all! We should be happy today!"

Watery blue eyes glances up into red looking utterly miserable. "I know it's _Weihnachten_, _Bruder_," Ludwig said blandly. "But that does not mean that I must be happy."

Prussia was rather startled by the grim, candid answer, but he could not fault the little confederation for his rather bleak outlook on life at the moment. While it seemed Ludwig had come to terms and accepted the fact that he was the Confederation of the Rhine, it was also clear that he did not want to be. But unlike the boy he had been in the past, it seemed that the blonde would now do what he had to and would keep all the rules and regulations that went along with being a nation, unlike Gerwig who would try to push his dominance and outright rebel.

"_Ja_," Gilbert nodded solemnly. "I suppose you are right…But you can still enjoy this morning and this meal that your awesome big brother made!" he smiled his cocky smile for the boy.

There was just the barest hint of a smile on the blonde face as he looked up at his older brother. "I guess so." He shrugged slightly.

"Sure you can!" Prussia exclaimed, going back to the stove to make a plate for the boy. "I made eggs and ham and I have bread with some jelly. I've even got some fresh milk for you to enjoy, because I'm such a great brother."

The show of arrogance had the boy smiling a bit wider, and his blue eyes seemed to damn up any tears that had thoughts of escaping. The stiff upper lip attitude the boy was displaying sent a shot of pride through Gilbert. While things looked pretty bleak, his little brother was fighting against despair. It was this sort of attitude that made the kingdom certain that no matter what, France would not be able to break his little brother completely. Ludwig would not be an easy land for France to occupy.

The music in the other room stopped playing and Austria soon made his appearance, spoiling the moment, Gilbert thought. "Good morning, _Rheinbund_," the aristocrate smiled down at the blonde. "How are you doing this morning?"

Gilbert nearly smacked his forehead in frustration. Why was it that as soon as he had Ludwig feeling better, Roderich always came by and made things worse? But although the child winced slightly at the name, he seemed resolved to answer to it. "Fine, thank you, Mr. Austria."

With a rather charming smile of his own, Roderich sat down next to the boy. "Please," the brunette's voice was full of nothing but appeal. "Mr. Austria is what my servants and people call me. You may call me Roderich, as I said before."

"Okay, Roderich," Ludwig nodded once with a shy smile. While Prussia was upset by his rival's outreach of goodwill towards his little brother, Gilbert was at least pacified in knowing that while the idiot Austrian threw out his name for the boy so carelessly, Ludwig did not seem as willing to tell his new name to anyone.

"Well, here you are, West," the northern kingdom set a full plate in front of his brother. "A nice big meal just for you!"

The pianist looked up with a raise of an eyebrow. "I would normally assume that you've made enough for everyone, but it is you…"

Snorting, Prussia walked back over to the stove. "Relax, _Herr _Fancy-pants, there's enough for you too."

Gilbert took great delight in coming back to the table and sitting down on the other side of his brother with his own plate of food while not bringing any back for the guest. Austria scowled, turning an interesting shade of red. To push things a little further, the albino picked up his own fork and began to eat and Ludwig followed suit.

"I thought you said there was enough for everyone," Roderich growled.

"There is!" Gilbert grinned wickedly. "If you want some, it's over on the stove." He was tired of playing servant to the uptight aristocrat.

With a snort, the Austria stomped over to the stove to get himself something to eat. Gilbert winked at his little brother. To his pleasure, Ludwig smiled back at him, apparently thinking the entire situation funny. It felt so good to have someone else around! The past several months had been some of the best that Prussia could remember. He'd been alone for quite some time, and having a little brother with him felt wonderful. Perhaps that's why it hurt so bad at the thought of losing Ludwig…

When Roderich came back to the table, the three ate together in relative peace. Every so often the adults at the table would glare at each other, but nothing worse than that. Once the initial cold war was over, they began talking to one another, each enjoying himself as best as he could considering the situation they were all in. It felt weird for the adults to be sitting together laughing, but they did not mind much since they also heard the little boy between them laughing too.

"Oh, wait a minute!" Gilbert cried, interrupting a rather humorous story Roderich was telling. "I forgot! I'll be right back!"

Prussia ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs where he had hidden the Christmas presents he had gotten his brother. He ran back down the stairs, put a few presents under the tree while putting in some goodies in the stocking Ludwig had hung the night before, and then went into the kitchen where Roderich had finished his story and Ludwig was giggling happily. "Hey, West!" the albino grinned happily. "Go look under the Christmas tree. I think there's a few presents there for you left by Father Christmas."

The boy instantly perked up upon hearing this news and hopped out of his chair. "I'd forgotten about that!" he exclaimed as ran as fast as his tiny legs could carry him into the other room.

The two adults smiled on in affectionate amusement. A moment later, Austria stood up from the table as well, and walked to the doorway where Prussia still stood, watching his little brother toddle away. "I'd nearly forgotten it was Christmas as well," he said.

"_Ja_, it's easy to forget with all of the…other things going on," Gilbert responded quietly.

"Come on," Roderich placed a comforting hand on the other's shoulder. "Let's get in there before the child tears through everything."

The moment the two kingdoms walked in, they found the little blonde jumping up and down in excitement, his blue eyes sparkling with nearly uncontainable exhilaration. "Look, look!" Ludwig exclaimed. "Jesus had Father Christmas bring me presents just like that nice old guy told me he would last night!"

That sent both adults into a hysterical laughter. Roderich had to lean on the doorframe to keep himself up while Gilbert doubled over. Ludwig, on the other hand, did not understand why his brother or Austria were laughing so hard, but it made him happy to see them happy, so he laughed too. To the boy, this was just a magical, special time, and for a moment, he forgot all about what could happen later on that day.

"You're right, West!" Gilbert continued to snicker. "Vicar Schneider was right! Why don't you pick out a present and open it?"

The tiny blonde head nodded eagerly, and he seemed like a blur as he went to the tree, looking through the presents. "May I open this one?" he asked, holding up a pretty big box wrapped in blue.

"Of course!" Prussia nodded. "It's your present, isn't it?"

The smile on Ludwig's face vanished instantly and the boy suddenly began looking all over the box. "I don't know." He looked utterly deject. "It doesn't have a name on it."

Gilbert nearly rolled his eyes, but he stopped himself. He walked towards his little brother, unable to get the grin off his face. "Let's see here," he said as he sat down by the blonde. "You know what?" he leaned in, whispering to Ludwig loud enough so Roderich could hear too. "I wasn't supposed to say anything, but Father Christmas told me that all the presents that are wrapped in bright colors are yours even if they don't have names on them."

Ludwig quickly snapped his eyes to look at the array of presents. "They're all in bright paper," he whispered back.

It was the hardest thing in the world to keep from laughing outright, but somehow, Gilbert managed it. Probably because he was just that awesome. "Well then," he paused, as if thinking. "Open them all!"

He did not need to repeat himself, and soon Ludwig had opened his first present. The child opened the box and pulled out a woolen coat that came with a small cape and a hat. "Wow!" the boy exclaimed in delight, looking at his new things. "These are for me?"

"They sure are," Gilbert nodded and Austria came in and sat down in a chair near the two brothers. "Why don't you open another one?"

The blonde picked out another box wrapped in green paper. He carefully ripped it open and pulled out the other box. Inside were two complete outfits, one for church, the other for everyday use. Again, Ludwig looked delighted. His large eyes seemed to double in size. "These are so nice!" he beamed up at his brother.

"If you do not mind," Roderich spoke up before Gilbert could answer. "I, too, ran into Father Christmas just last evening, and he commissioned me to give this to you, _Kleiner Herr_." He held out a small box to the child.

Carefully, Ludwig reached for the small item offered to him, and opened it. Inside was a gold pocket watch that was engraved with a beautiful scenery of mountains and trees and even birds flying in the sky. The boy's eyes were wide with wonderment as he held the watch in his hands delicately, as though afraid he might drop it. "Wow!" he whispered. "I-is this really for me?"

Amethyst eyes were soft and loving as they watched the obvious delight dance on the child's face. "Yes, it is. Father Christmas would not make a mistake, after all."

"It's so pretty," Ludwig smiled up at both his brother and Austria. "Do you want to see it?"

Gilbert picked up the watch his brother offered up to him and looked at it carefully. The gold was a beautiful rich color and the engraving was superb. Austria had spared no expenses this time, making the albino wonder just how much the brunette loved this little boy. While he could not help but feel a little jealous and his pride stung at bit at being upped one, Gilbert could not deny that it was an exquisite watch, nor could he deprive Ludwig of his enjoyment.

"It _is _a very fine watch, West." He handed it back to his brother. "Make sure you take really good care of it."

"I will!" the boy promised before passing his newest gift to Austria so that the other man could take a look.

"There's still a gift under the tree," Prussia reminded his little brother.

Ludwig nearly lunged at the gift. Apparently he liked receiving presents. He tore through the green paper of the long box quickly. When he opened the lid to this, the boy gasped. "W-what's this?"

A sad smile overcame Gilbert's lips. "That's the sword of the Holy Roman Empire," he said gently.

Roderich sat up in his seat, leaving over to see the newest gift. "Is it really?" the Austrian asked in amazement.

"_Ja_, it is." There was no real satisfaction in the Prussian's voice at this, it was stated as simple fact. "This sword belonged to a great and powerful nation, West," he told his brother seriously. "He might not have come out of the war, but he went down like a hero. You are his successor, and you are the only one who can bear his sword. Wear it with pride and dignity."

Cautiously, the boy lifted the sword out of its case and unsheathed it as best as he could. Being degraded as a nation had reduced the child into a much smaller boy than he had been before, Gilbert noted, but he knew it would not be long before Ludwig grew and would be able to wield his sword again. After all, no one stayed a child forever.

"I-I don't think I should have this," the blonde said after a moment. "I-it's not mine."

"You are Holy Rome's successor." Prussia's tone was serious, causing the child to look up at him in question. "As his successor you must carry on where he failed. You must show the world that you can hold your own and honor my deceased brother's memory and wishes. By wearing his sword you carry on his legacy and his memory."

When Ludwig did not look too certain, Roderich stepped in. "I agree with Gilbert," he said gently. "You should have that sword. Do it for the Holy Roman Empire. Show the world that he didn't just disappear."

Very slowly, the boy nodded as he turned back to look at the blade in his hands. Gilbert watched his brother carefully, waiting for the child to recognize his once cherished weapon, but no such recollection seemed to strike the child. There came no spark of remembrance, no sudden realization, there was only the look of marvel at receiving such a special gift. It seemed that for whatever reason his brother did not remember who he was in the past, those locked up memories were never going to get out. If seeing and holding his own sword didn't bring back any lost memories, then nothing would.

But not wanting the joyous atmosphere to dissolve so quickly, Prussia clapped his hands together, startling both Ludwig and Roderich. "Well, you know what time it is, West?"

The boy put down his new sword carefully before turning to look at the clock on the mantle. "Five forty-five?" he asked.

"No!...Well, yes, but that's not what I meant." Why, out of all the little brothers in the world, did Gilbert have to get one that was so literal? "It's lucky Christmas pickle time!"

Both the Austrian and the German looked at the Prussian with twin expressions of confusion. "Pickle?" Ludwig cocked his head to the side.

"Come on, West! The pickle!" He had to stop himself from demanding why the other boy did not remember the pickle. "It's a good German tradition. I hid a pickle in the tree and whoever finds it first gets an extra Christmas present!"

Roderich looked like he was about ready to protest, and Gilbert could just see the priss lecture him about wasting food or being unsanitary or something of the sort, but he cut the brunette off with a glare. "Everyone's participating!"

While Austria snapped his mouth shut, Ludwig jumped up. "Okay! Can we look now?"

The northern kingdom chuckled. "On the count of three. Ready? _Eins_. _Zwei_. _Drei_! Find the pickle!"

While the child quickly went around to the other side of the tree, searching energetically, the adults looked less vigorously. Both Gilbert and Roderich found the pickle, but passed it up, pretending that they hadn't seen it. But at last, Ludwig did find the pickle and he grabbed it quickly and ran to Gilbert. "I found it! I found it, _Bruder!_"

"Kesesese! You did, didn't you, West? Awesome! Good job!" Gilbert walked to his favorite chair and pulled the extra present out from behind. "Here you are, West! The special, extra pickle present!"

Ludwig did not waste any time as he opened up his last gift. He paused for a moment as he looked inside before he pulled out a stuffed animal. It was a black and tan dog, nearly as big as he was. The little boy stared at if for a moment before he hugged it close, smiling widely. "_Hundlein_!" he squeezed it extra tight to his chest.

Gilbert's smile widened. "Do you like him, _Bruder_?"

"_Ja_!" the child's exclamation was muffled by the toy. "He's so soft!"

Both kingdom's chuckled. "What are you going to call your new friend, _Kleiner Herr_?" Roderich asked, his eyes alight with amusement.

Ludwig looked up, at Austria before looking down at his new toy again. The serious look on his face was almost comical on one so young, but both Austria and Prussia waited patiently for the boy to answer. "Otto," the blonde said after a moment. "Is that a good name, Gilbert?"

The albino smirked down at his little brother. It came as a little bit of a shock that Ludwig would pick such a name. Did the boy know that that was the name of the first emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, or did he simply like the name? It was interesting to try and figure his brother's mind out, yet confusing all the same. Taking a quick glance over at Roderich, Prussia knew he was not alone in this thinking.

"That's a great name for your puppy," Gilbert smiled. "Why'd you name him that?"

"He looks like an Otto," Ludwig shrugged before he held his puppy close again, hugging it fiercely.

"That's a kingly name, for a handsome _Hund,_" Roderich said seriously, enjoying the look of agreement in clear blue eyes. "Why don't I sit and play for you both a while?" he offered before standing up and making his way over to the harpsichord.

"_Danke_!" Ludwig grinned over at the brunette.

"While he gets ready, let's get you dressed for the day, West." Prussia picked up his little brother easily before grabbing a pair of new clothes that the boy had unwrapped.

"Can Otto help?" Blue eyes looked up pleadingly.

"Of course!" Gilbert gave a quick kiss on his brother's forehead. "Come on. Let's get ready so that we can come back and listen to Roderich while we check to see what kind of goodies were left in your stocking."

Getting ready for the day was always an easy thing. Ludwig was pretty independent and could get dressed himself fairly quickly. The only thing he really needed help with was getting his shoes on, which the older brother didn't mind helping him do in the least. Once Gilbert and Otto had successfully put on Ludwig's shoes, the three made their way back into the living room where Roderich sat at the instrument, playing several lively Christmas tunes. While he played, the two brothers and the stuffed animal snacked on sweets left in the stocking.

**oOoOoOo**

It was turning out to be one of the best days of Ludwig's life that first Christmas he spent with Gilbert and Roderich. He liked being with both men, and he was very pleased with the presents that Father Christmas had brought on Jesus' order. The boy could not imagine a happier Christmas anywhere in the world.

It seemed like only a few minutes had gone by when there was suddenly a knock on the front door. Austria's hands froze in place on the harpsichord keys, silencing the music. Gilbert, who had been holding his brother, stiffened instantly. The room seemed to suddenly get much colder and all the previous joy seemed to have been sucked out of the house completely. Ludwig pushed himself into his brother's chest, his forgotten fear suddenly rushing back in a great wave.

Another loud, annoyed knock told the three inhabitance that whoever was out there was not happy about being kept waiting. Prussia stood up, set his brother down in his chair, before going to answer the door. Very afraid, Ludwig ran over to Austria, still holding Otto. Roderich gladly picked up the child and held him close.

"Ah! So you did not run!" a voice with an odd accent floated into the house, alerting the Austrian and the German that France had arrived. "Now, where is _mon petit Confédération du Rhin_?"

"Hey!" came an indignant cry from Prussia, and a moment later, Ludwig saw a rather tall man dressed in a long coat with long blonde hair standing in the doorway.

The man's deep blue eyes searched the room until they fixed upon Roderich, or rather, onto the small child in Austria's arms. "_Sacré bleu!_" he exclaimed, his eyes widening. "_Comme il est beau_!" France looked absolutely delighted. Ludwig tried to hide behind Otto while turning into Roderich's chest, trying to escape from view.

Prussia made his reentrance then, looking furious. His normally pale face was flushed with anger, his red eyes seemed to glow with malice. "_Hurensohn_," he growled viciously. "_Ich sollte Sie töten_."

"Now, now, _mon ami_," the Frenchmen shook his finger at the fuming Prussian. "Is that any way to speak with children present?"

"Perhaps he wouldn't have need of such language if you had better manners," Austria sneered, looking whole disgusted.

"Ah! What a sight!" France smiled cheerfully. "_Qu'est-ce que c'est? _Do not tell me that Austria and Prussia are actually working together? Say it is not so!" His laughing made Ludwig angry, like he wanted to punch the other kingdom in the face.

Gilbert looked close to murder, and while Ludwig did not want his brother to get hurt or get into trouble, there was also a part of him that hoped the northern state would kick the empire's butt. "Listen here," the albino began. "You have no right to come barging in here like you own the place!"

"Well, considering that I've got my troops everywhere, and you've been on the losing side of things lately, I'd say I've got rights," the blonde smirked cockily. "Now, I do not want to make trouble, I just came here to take _Confédération du Rhin_."

"Why you _Arschgesicht—_" Prussia began.

"Here he is," Austria said quickly before Gilbert got into too much trouble. "This is _Rheinbund_." Ludwig saw the regret in Roderich's eyes when the southern kingdom stood him up so that France could take a better look at him.

"Ah!" the enemy put his hands over his heart. "_Comme il est beau_, _non?_" he said again. "What a precious little thing," he cooed.

Again, Ludwig felt the need to punch the man in the nose. He could not imagine staying with this man. He was _nothing _like Gilbert or Roderich, and there was something about him that the boy found he could not respect. Although he'd read and heard all about the great French armies, all the stunning accomplishments they'd made, he could not believe that such a powerful army came from a man like this.

"I believe that I will be taking the boy now," France said after a moment. "After all, I do have other things to be doing. Come _mon petit_," he held out his hand for Ludwig. "We are leaving."

Ludwig did not move. He did not want to go, especially with this man. He wanted to stay here with his big brother to celebrate Christmas more! There was so many things he had yet to explore in this house, so many stories his brother hadn't told him yet! It wasn't far! He did not want to go!"

"I said come," the older blonde's voice turned sharp.

"Let him alone!" Gilbert snapped. "He's scared."

France turned to look the other kingdom in the eyes. "Since when is the almighty Prussia so concerned about others?" he growled. "Besides, he is my territory now and I shall speak to him as I please. He's going with me and there's nothing you can do about it."

"At least let us get his things together so that he can leave," Roderich stood up, put himself between the Ludwig and France.

The long haired man sighed in impatience. "Very well, but hurry! It's Christmas and I have no desire to stay in Prussian lands any longer than what is necessary."

Gilbert took his chance and walking into the room, snatched up his brother, and ran upstairs. When they reached the bedroom, the boy watched as his big brother packed a small bag of all of Ludwig's things. The child did not have all that much, but he noticed that Prussia was putting some of his own belongings in the bag as well.

"_Depp trottel_," the albino growled every so often.

"_Bruder_?" Ludwig spoke up. The older man instantly looked up, his red eyes full of concern. Tears blurred Ludwig's vision as he tried to meet his brother's gaze. "I'm scared…"

Gilbert was there in an instant, hugging the little boy to his chest. "I know," he whispered hoarsely. "I know."

"I don't want to go!" Ludwig cried into his brother's shoulder. "Please! I don't want to go!"

Had the child known he was breaking his brother's heart, he would have tried harder not to cry, but as it was, he could not help it. What was going to happen to him without his big brother? Gilbert had always been there for Ludwig for as long as he could remember. Gilbert had been the one to save him, take him in when he had no one else in the world.

"_Du musst tapfer sein,_" Prussia whispered, rubbing the boy's back. "Be brave for me. Be brave for your people."

The two stayed like that for several minutes, Gilbert hanging on to his brother for dear life while Ludwig wept. They were interrupted when Roderich walked into the bedroom. He paused, looking uncomfortable, before setting down Ludwig's new clothes. "You should pack these as well," he said softly.

As Prussia set down his brother, Ludwig noticed the tears Gilbert tried wiped away furiously. "Right," the northern kingdom's voice was gruff.

While the albino finished packing, Roderich took the time to help the boy put on his new sword. "Keep this with you always," he said seriously. Something about the way the other said this made the boy certain he would.

Together, Gilbert and Roderich bundled Ludwig up in his new coat,cape, and hat and when neither of them could think of any excuse to keep the boy away from France any longer, turned to go down the stairs. So, it was with a heavy heart that the three went back down , Prussia carrying his beloved little brother. Ludwig hugged Otto tightly.

"There you are!" France smiled brightly once he saw the trio. He was waiting in the hall with a French soldier. "Let us away!" he cried merrily.

Gilbert hugged his brother one last time tightly before kissing the boy on the forehead and cheeks. "Remember who you are, Ludwig," he whispered for the boy's ears only. "Stay strong. Big brother Gilbert will get you back one day."

"_Ich liebe dich Bruder,_"Ludwig whispered.

"Enough goodbyes!" France snapped.

Prussia reluctantly set the boy down, handing the small bag of belongings to the soldier. Roderich took the chance to hug his little cousin closely once before he left. "We will meet again soon."

"_Auf Wiedersehen_," Ludwig sniffled as he looked up at both his brother and Austria.

Having, apparently, been kept too long, France picked up Ludwig from behind, startling the child, before he spun on his heels and headed for the door. "A lovely visit!" the Frenchmen said over his shoulder. "Thank you for the wonderful morning! I'll be back again soon. _Joyeux Noël_!"

A blast of cold air hit Ludwig full in the face and he shivered. It was snowing heavily, and the entire ground was covered in a white blanket. In several long strides, France was to his carriage. Another man opened the door and the empire stepped in quickly, setting the little boy across from him.

"Now, _mon petit_, you are finally mine." His smile was predatory.

Hugging Otto close, Ludwig looked out the window of the carriage just as it began moving to get one last glimpse of Roderich and his brother for what would be many years.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry about the slight delay in posting. I've been having computer problems, but they're all fixed now. :) And just so you know, it did kind of break my head to write this. Poor little Ludwig...but things will look up, I assure you. And just a little side note, when Prussia's upset about his king not telling him about some details concerning France, that's my way of showing how confused and ill thought out some of the battle plans were for the Prussians (and also Gilbert was busy with his little brother).

**History: **In late 1806 Prussia was fighting against France with Russia, but lost several humiliating battles. The Christmas pickle is a real German tradition. I know. My family does it every year. :P

**German: **_Der goldene Vogel- _The Golden Bird (a story from the Grim Fairy Tales...I know the book wasn't written yet, but the story was still around). _König-_King. _Weihnachten-_Christmas. _Rheinbund-_Confederation of the Rhine. _Hundlein-_Puppy. _Hund-_Dog. _Hurensohn-_bastard (lit. whore son). _Ich sollte Sie töten-_I should kill you. _Arschgesicht- _assface. _Depp trottel- _idiot jerk. _Du musst tapfer sein- _You must be brave. _Ich liebe dich Bruder-_ I love you, brother. _Auf Wiedersehen-_goodbye.

**French: **_mon petit- _my little. _Confédération du Rhin-_Confederation of the Rhine_. Sacré bleu-_Holy blue (I just really wanted to add this in XD). _Comme il est beau-_He is so handsome. _mon ami-_my friend. _Qu'est-ce que c'est?- _What is this? _Joyeux Noël-_Merry Christmas.

As always, please leave me a review! They are always welcome and always loved. And a quick poll if you don't mind: Who out there would be interested in a story of an adult Ludwig taking care of a child Gilbert? I've been thinking up another story once this one's finished- or maybe before, who knows- and I'd like to know what you all would read. Thanks everyone


	10. Chapter 9: Allies

**Chapter Nine: Allies**

Gilbert stood frozen in place on his front step as he watched France's carriage drive away through the snow. He did not feel the icy wind that blew into his face, nor did he feel his limbs slowly start to freeze as he kept watch until the carriage was out of sight. Even as the wind whistled in his ears, he did not hear it. All he heard were the last words his brother had spoken, those words that had broken his heart, _Ich liebe dich Bruder_…

"Well," Roderich said quietly, startling the other kingdom from his thoughts. "That's it then. The boy is finally with France. Now we must figure out what to do now that he's acquired the German states."

Turning around on his heels, Prussia marched past his guest and into his house. Furious tears blurred his vision, but he did not notice much. His blood was on fire, his head felt as though it were being cleaved into two halves. There was nothing but hatred filling up in the albino, hatred and remorse.

"_Preußen_!" the Austrian called out after him, but the northern kingdom did not stop. "Gilbert! What are you doing?"

The enraged kingdom turned around sharply, startling Austria. Blood red eyes gleamed with passion as he glared down at his cousin. "I'm going to get my little brother back."

**oOoOoOo**

In the carriage several miles away, France was congratulating himself on finally finding the embodiment of the Confederation of the Rhine. It had been quite a delight to discover that Holy Rome's heir was such a lovely little creature. Yes, a very great delight. The child would fit in very well at the French courts. Napoléon and his wife would love seeing this little one.

Looking out the window, Francis watched the snow falling, rushing past the carriage. Oh yes, he had so loved seeing Austria and Prussia's faces when he had taken the little confederation away from them. Austria had looked so sick and Prussia had looked pissed beyond reason. It was well worth it to see the albino's red face and murderous expression when he knew full well that he couldn't do anything. Oh how Francis had laughed on the inside!

Once he got home, the expanding empire planned on a long rest where he could relax and drink his wine in peace. Then he would take it upon himself to train and educate his little confederation. French would naturally be the child's first lesson, then perhaps proper etiquette. After all, the small thing had been living amongst the Germans and other barbarians, so his manners were sure to be atrocious. How to dress properly was going to have to be soon as well. What the boy was wearing was simply horrific!

There was just so much to do for this little one, but Francis was up to the challenge. He would enjoy everything about caring for his new little confederation. It had been too long since he had control over a weaker nation. When he had lost his precious Canada to that bastard Britain, it had been a major blow for the other European nation, but now he was strong. Now he was strong and he had complete control over the German states. Now he could spend his time and attention on building himself up and becoming a great empire. He could start with this little one…

Smiling to himself, France turned to take another good look at the newest addition to his house. "So, _Confédération du Rhin_, before we arrive in France, I—" the older country trailed off when he actually looked at the boy sitting across from him.

Although at first glance the child had seemed nothing short of angelic, now he appeared to have transformed into Lucifer himself. The round face that had been so appealing earlier now seemed somehow sinister and the pouting lips were turned into a vicious scowl. The brilliant blue eyes were now colder than ice and as hard as steel, freezing and pinning Francis in place. And while the boy was still hugging his stuffed animal close, it looked like a death grip now and the empire swore he could see hatred and contempt radiating off of the child in massive waves. He could _feel _the ire, the disdain slapping him in the face, willing him to die.

France sat completely stunned, unable to move. Although he knew there was no reason for it— as he _was_ the bigger nation after all— he was intimidated by the little one across from him. No, intimidated was not the right word for it. Terrified! Scared shitless was perhaps a better way of looking at it. There was really no other way to look at it. The boy was simply horrifying!

"I-I-I…" the empire tried again, but failed to get any farther than that. The child across from him scowled deeper, his scorn seeming to intensify.

For just a moment, France was certain the little hell spawn was going to lash out at him and slit his throat, but the child remained rooted in the same place the older man had sat him in earlier. _This is why they let me take him so easily! _Francis thought despairingly. _They are probably hoping he'll kill me on the trip back home! _

Staring at the child for another few seconds, the older blonde cleared his throat awkwardly for a moment before laughing uneasily. "Ha ha!" It was forced, sounding strained and edged with fear. "Well, _mon petit_," he folded his hands awkwardly in his lap before immediately changing positions ad trying to put his one arm over the backrest casually. "When we get to France, you will meet my emperor, Napoléon." The child continued to glare. "A-and he will brief you on everything that you will need to know."

Pale blue eyes seemed to contain flames burning from within them, surrounded by ice. An angry red inferno seemed to dance around the child, licking his clothing, engulfing the boy until it seemed the whole carriage would soon catch on fire. The utter hatred that was etched into the little one's features nearly gave Francis a heart attack.

It was in that moment that France knew that while he had dominance over the German states, it was not going to be easy.

**oOoOoOo**

"Where the hell were you?" Gilbert slammed his hands down on the table furiously.

The sweet smile that seemed forever present on Russia's face never left as he looked over at the albino across from him. The bigger nation seemed completely unconcerned by Prussia's outburst. "As I've told you before, I am at war with Turkey also, so I have been busy. But I cannot attack France yet as it is still the winter," Ivan's gentle voice was light, almost happy sounding. "It would be very foolish to fight in winter, _da_?"

The smaller kingdom glared intently at the other nation across from him. "You Russians like to brag about how you can withstand the cold, right? Why not fight now while you have the advantage and France is helpless?"

The passion in Prussia's voice was moving, forceful, immediately signaling to the others in the room that he was worried, desperate perhaps. "Why so urgent all of a sudden?" Ivan questioned, his brow creased ever so slightly in confusion.

Gilbert stiffened ever so slightly, and he straightened up, to look down his straight nose at the Russian. "Well," he growled, "You and yours are already late and left me alone, didn't you?" Austria, sitting between the other two nations, winced. "I'm not really thrilled at the prospect of that Frog-face overrunning my lands. Enough's enough. This bastard needs to go."

Everyone knew that of all the kingdoms, all the empires, all the nations in the world, that Gilbert Beilschmidt was the most arrogant, self-absorbed bastard of anyone. It had been frustrating for everyone else when he had declared himself neutral at the beginning of the war, and a shock that he had been beaten by France when he'd entered the war. There was no question that Prussia would want revenge, would be itching for a fight. But there was something about all of this that did not sit right with Russia. He had a feeling that he was not being told something.

"_Da_," Ivan nodded once. "It was most unfortunate that I arrived too late to help in the beginning, but what is to be done about the past?"

"I quite agree," Austria spoke up. "We should each of us look to the future…A future with_out _Napoleon."

"_Da_," Russia nodded again. "However, I believe that it is important to understand the past before we look to the future. Do you not agree?"

The two German nations sat very still. Apparently neither one seemed completely comfortable with the situation. Knowing that he had hit some sort of cord, Ivan decided to press on in hope of discovering something new.

"What I am wondering is what has made the mighty _Prussiya_ interested in this war at all?" The Slavic nation's smile seemed to grow just a little bit sweeter. "As I am recalling, you did not want to get involved at all, _da_? You left Mr. Austria and I all alone in the beginning with no support. Why have you jumped into the fight all of a sudden?"

"Sorry I wanted to insure my people's safety," Prussia growled sarcastically. "It served my interest in the beginning to stay neutral." He crossed his arms over his chest seriously. "Besides, it was pretty amusing for a while to see you two get your asses handed to you over and over again," he smirked arrogantly.

Although he felt the insult, Ivan made sure his smile did not waver. He knew that there was something else going on. Prussia was an ass, which was not in dispute, but he was not stupid, nor was he— despite popular belief— rash. There was a reason why he had seemingly jumped into this war, but what was it? The smaller kingdom had seemingly made his peace with France and the expanding empire did not seem to mind the neutral nation so much, so what could propel Prussia into war so quickly that he and his men did not even seem prepared to enter the fight?

Ivan's purple eyes widened as realization suddenly struck him. His menacing smile grew slightly. "Oh!" he exclaimed. He enjoyed watching the other two snap their attention over to him. It seemed that Austria was in on this as well, which would make sense really. It only confirmed the Russian's suspicions. He knew he was right.

"Oh?" Prussia snapped irritably. The huge empire smiled smugly when he detected worry in the other nation's voice.

Joyfully beaming at the other two faces in the room, Ivan took his time in answering. "I understand," he folded his hands carefully on top of the table. "I have heard recently that your brother—what was his name? Holy Roman Empire?— was dissolved recently. Only several months ago, _da_? You are fighting now because of his death. And now you worry over his successor, who would belong to France."

"No!" Gilbert refuted too quickly. Ivan's smile deepened. "I'm not worried about that little upstart," he growled.

"Then why are you worried?" Russia pushed. He was enjoying his time among the two German nations. They were interesting and easy to fluster.

"I'm not worried!"

Ivan smirked.

"Please!" Roderich stepped up before his cousin had a chance to do something rash. "I believe that—whether any of us want to admit it or not—we are all a little worried about France and his new emperor." He turned to Russia. "The loss of Holy Rome has been hard on Prussia and I," he ignored Gilbert's expression of outrage. "I assume you've heard about the Holy Roman Empire's successor?"

"Rumors mostly," Ivan smiled easily, glad to know that he had been able to strangle some information out of the other nation. "I was told that your Holy Rome was dissolved. I assume that his heir has come into existence already, _da_?"

"That is correct," Roderich nodded. "He is currently in the care of France. He is _Rheinbund_, the Confederation of the Rhine."

Now that he believed he was on more level playing ground, Ivan decided that he would leave his game of torment and get down to serious business. He did not quite understand why these two had wanted to hide the fact that they were throwing themselves into the war more so because of this new confederation, but then again, there was much about the West that Ivan did not understand. They were just so strange, so…weird. But if they were worried about France's new little pet then he supposed that he should keep his eyes out for the new amalgamation as well.

"Ah, I see," the other said gently. "But it should really be no problem, I am thinking."

"How isn't this a problem?" Gilbert demanded. "France has acquired the cooperation of all of the German states and added on not only large tracks of land, but numbers for his army! How is that not a problem?"

The Slavic nation continued to smile. "If we launched a fear campaign, I'm sure we could get results."

"Pardon?" Austria frowned worriedly.

"Is simple," Ivan explained calmly, his face darkening in twisted pleasure. "We could march west, burn down the German states and attack France himself."

All the color that the albino had possessed before vanished instantly, his skin whiter than any snow the large nation had ever seen. But the initial shock quickly faded and anger panted the ashen cheeks red. "ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

Ivan was a bit surprised by Prussia's outburst. Everyone knew that the former Teutonic state was about as bloodthirsty as they came, and since he was worried about France's gain of German territory, why would he oppose the idea so quickly without even giving it a thought? This was a nation that sat waiting anxiously for a war. Why would he care so much about beating, or even killing, the little upstart nation that had killed his brother?

…unless this new little confederation was not quite what it seemed either? Ivan calmly looked the albino over. Prussia seemed firmly opposed to the idea of outright destroying the confederation, which was odd. Russia had heard that the other nation's government wanted France's confederation dissolved quickly, so why then would Gilbert care? The northern kingdom always obeyed his rulers. Could it be that, for once, the mighty Prussia had a personal interest in France's odd little confederacy?

"All ideas must be brought into light while in such meetings," Russia said serenely. "Or we may never come to a solution."

"Too true," Austria agreed too quickly.

"I am wondering, _Prussiya_," Ivan folded his hands again. "What interests do you have with the German states?"

"What kind of fucking question is that?" Gilbert growled, apparently fed up with the entire meeting. "My people and the people of those states are related."

"Ah, I see. So you fear hurting them…hurting your _new_ brother, _da_?" Once more, the albino froze. "This new confederation _is _your brother, _da_?"

Again, both Prussia and Austria looked uncomfortable about the Russian's problem solving abilities. It was curious how the two western kingdoms thought and operated. The subject of the Holy Roman Empire and this new confederation seemed like a very touchy subject for the two of them. But what surprised Ivan more was the fact that it all seemed to be on a more personal level, especially with Prussia. If they just told him what was going on instead of trying to be secretive…

"He is…_closely _related," the albino nodded once. "But why should you care?" he glared suspiciously. "You knew that my people and the people of all that land are related. Why so interested?"

Ivan smiled delightedly. "I just like to get to know my allies is all. Like to know what I can expect from them, what I cannot."

"A wise objective," Austria nodded. "Perhaps now that we've all come to a little closer understanding of one another we might—"

"_Da_, I will help," Ivan smiled. "I will do my part to help bring down the French Empire. But I must make it clear that I expect the same amount of commitment from each of you before I launch anymore attacks."

Across the table from him, Russia watched as the albino's red eyes narrowed into slits. "And just what do you mean by that?" Gilbert's eyebrows knitted together in suspicion. "Do you honestly believe that I will not do my part to end Napoleon?"

"No, no," Ivan held up his hands quickly, feigning innocence. "I believe that you will not hesitate to strike at France…What I am concerned is how you will react when faced with Germans."

Silence stretched over the room as the three great kingdoms stared at one another. For the most part, Prussia did not take his eyes from the bigger, eastern nation while Russia focused solely upon the Germanic nation. Austria was strangely out of place, caught between the other two, glancing from one to the other without knowing what to do for once.

As he sat peacefully, Ivan made sure to watch Prussia closely. For all his pomp and haughtiness, the other kingdom seemed truly at a loss of words, which was rare. For once, Russia could see the German kingdom's emotions just as plainly as though they had been written out. But that clear window of insight was covered just as quickly as it was opened, but that did not matter to Ivan. He had seen what he needed. He knew now what to expect from the self-proclaimed "awesome" kingdom.

"While it as commendable to want to protect the new confederation, you must see that it is not practical," Ivan's smile softened in mock pity. "The amalgamation has killed your brother, and allied himself with France. Surely you realize that the only way to truly stop France will be to break up the German coalition?"

Gilbert's face went completely white as he stared into the Russian's amethyst eyes.

Shaking his head in disgusted pity, Ivan stood up. "I will do what I can to help you," he said again. "But as I do, I must have you both consider just where your true motives and alliances lay. And know that if you hesitate in anything," he pinned Gilbert under his merciless gaze, "I will not hesitate to destroy anything, any_one _that may stand in my way. _Dobryi vecher_."

The eastern empire marched to the door with long strides, not slowing down for a moment. His classic smile slowly slipped off his face as he walked out into the cold, snowy night. As he walked into the freezing night, a scowl solidified on his features.

"_Ne razocharovivay menya_," he muttered darkly as he walked home, guided by General Winter.

**oOoOoOo**

It took several days to reach France, and Francis had never been so glad to be back at his home in his life! While it had snowed everyday on the journey, the roads had not been terrible, and the pace had been rather brisk considering the ice. But it wasn't the weather that worried the empire, no, it was the tiny confederation that he rode with.

It was true that France had not heard one sound from the child the entire trip, nor had the boy caused any trouble, but that did not mean that Francis wasn't frightened of the little creep. There was just something about that tiny blonde that scared the shit out of him! The apparent angelic face had an underlining of hatred and the empire just knew that he was evil. _Pure _evil. Like, almost _Russia _evil. There was this time when Francis was sure the kid was going to slit his throat in his sleep with that little sword he wore at his side.

But Francis was home now, he had finally accomplished his emperor's orders and now he could sit and relax for a time while Napoléon had his new toy to play with. _And I'll be free of this little brat for a time, _he added silently to himself.

"Come, come, _mon petit chou_," the rising empire stepped out of the carriage. He smiled affectionately when the little boy's eyes widened into the size of saucers when he stepped out to see the palace. "We are going to meet _Empereur Napoléon Bonaparte_."

The older nation led the way into the massive palace where the renowned French emperor inhabited. As he walked, Francis pushed his little confederation in front of him to make sure the child did not fall behind or be an easy target for others. France walked tall and proud, trying his best to ignore the secret police that trailed them as they entered through the gates.

Walking into the main entrance, Francis waited for the servants to announce him. Peeking down at the child before him, whose blue eyes were sparkling with wonder, France couldn't help but smile. _Perhaps the child is not so very bad after all…_

The servants came and told him that the emperor would see them in his study immediately. Pleased, he did not hesitate and pushed his new charge in front of him. "_Je suis de retour, mon Empereur!_" Francis bowed low to the man across the room.

"Ah! _France_!" the ruler of France smiled and rushed over to his beloved country. "_Comment allez-vous?_"

"_Trés bien, merci_," the country bowed once more.

"_C'est excellent!_" the ruler clasped arms with his nation happily before he noticed that the blonde was not alone. "_Et_ _qui est cette personne la'_?" he frowned down at the tiny child that was now desperately trying to hide behind Francis's leg.

The empire gave a nervous laugh before he pushed the child forward to face Napoléon. "This, my lord, is _Confédération du Rhin_," he introduced proudly, relishing the look of utter adoration in the emperor's eyes.

"_Magnifique!_" Bonaparte whispered in awe, staring down at the tiny boy that symbolized his greatest achievement. "_Parlez-vous français?_" he asked the tiny blonde.

"No," Francis spoke up quickly. "I am afraid that he only speaks German to my knowledge."

"Ah! What a pity," the shorter man sighed. "He is a handsome child though, is he not, _France_?"

"_Oui_," the nation nodded eagerly. "A very handsome little one. Can you believe I found him straying into _Prussien_ territory?"

"It does not surprise me," Napoléon shook his head before walking back to his desk to sit down. "Take _le garçon _to Joséphine. I am sure she will like to look at him. Have her give him a room. Once that is done, you come back here. We have things to discuss."

Bowing low to the man, Francis pushed down his charge, making sure the boy bowed as well. "_Comme vous voulez_."

With that, France grabbed a hold of the little confederation's hand and briskly left the office. The first meeting had gone rather well, he thought. It seemed that the child had been too overwhelmed to give any death glares and Napoléon too caught up in the wonder of controlling another nation to have realized the boy had still been holding his little stuffed dog, or the fact that the boy's clothes looked like they could have very well come off of a German commoner. Thank God for small favors!

It was lucky that Francis did not look down at that moment to notice the very real hatred that suddenly flashed in the icy blue eyes of the child beside him. It would have simply ruined the whole encounter!

**oOoOoOo**

For days now Ludwig had refused to speak to the man that had taken him away from his brother. He hated seeing France. Just looking at the face of the arrogant looking long-haired nation gave the little German a stomachache. He hated everything about France, from the way he spoke to the way he dressed.

It had been quite a shock, however, when Ludwig had finally made it to France's home. It was so large and grand, much richer than anything the boy had ever seen. He had been so shocked that when the older nation had pushed him along, the tiny blonde could think of nothing to do but obey.

The encounter with the infamous Napoléon Bonaparte had been terrifying as well. Germany had been reading up on the French emperor and everything that he had read about the man suggested that he was great and powerful. He had even managed to overrun Gilbert! So when the encounter had been scheduled to take place, the boy had found himself hiding behind the one who had taken him away from everything he had known and loved in order to protect himself.

But the surprises for the day seemed never ending. The great Napoléon, the terror of Europe, had been nothing more than a short, little man. From all of the stories that Ludwig had heard about the Frenchmen, he had expected the man to at _least _be six feet tall, more actually, but from just that brief encounter, he would guess that the great emperor was only five feet six inches tall. His nation was about three inches taller than him! Gilbert was _much _taller than Napoléon_ that_ was for sure!

Now, after his rushed meeting with Bonaparte and blur of French words, the tiny blonde found himself being drug somewhere else by France. The nation would stop and ask a random servant something and they would point and bow, and the taller blonde did not eve seem to thank them as he rushed on.

Ludwig suddenly felt very worried. What was going to happen to him? Where was France taking him? Had the emperor ordered his new confederation to be put into a prison cell? Or were they just going to lock him in a room somewhere and forget about him? The child found himself tightening his grip on Otto, and he hugged his puppy closer to his chest. Although tears rose into his vision, he refused to cry. He had to stay strong. That's what Gilbert would do.

At last, they can to another room and a servant went in and it seemed that he was announcing their presence. Ludwig found himself drug in through the doors before France forced him to bow again. Peeking up, the child found himself face to face with a rather pristine looking woman. Her gown was exquisite and she held herself as royalty as she sat dripping with jewels.

The moment she saw him, she gasp. France said something that the boy supposed was an introduction before the woman exclaimed, "_Comme il est beau!_" It was not the first time Ludwig had heard that said, and he wondered what it meant.

France laughed at it though, and released his hand. The little confederation watched silently as the woman and France talked quickly about something before the nation turned to look down at him. "This is Lady Joséphine, the Emperor's wife. You will stay with her for a time and she will give you a room later," the man spoke quickly. "Now I must be off. Behave yourself," he said seriously, before he stood up straight, bowed to the woman, and walked away, leaving Ludwig alone with the strange woman.

"_Venir ici, mon petit_," Lady Joséphine spoke softly once France was gone. Ludwig did not know what the woman wanted and remained standing where he had been left. What was he supposed to do? He didn't understand what she was saying. The only words that he had picked up so far in French were "yes", "no", and "little one"; everything else might as well have been Chinese.

When he did not move, the woman giggled delicately. Ludwig found himself blushing. He did not like being laughed at and he felt stupid not being able to understand what was going on. But at the same time, he was relieved that she had not gotten angry with him. "_Venir ici_," she repeated and held out her arms to him.

Suspiciously, the boy inched himself forward, still clinging tightly to Otto. For a fleeting moment, Ludwig wished Otto was a real puppy. If he were a real dog then the little boy wouldn't have to worry about anyone attacking him because his puppy would bite anyone who tried to hurt him. Mentally, the boy made note of looking into getting real dogs later so that he could protect himself.

Lady Joséphine giggled at him again, apparently finding something about him funny. Feeling self-conscious, Ludwig came to a halt and refused to move another inch. She beckoned him again, but the stubborn German did not budge. The woman smiled at him softly before calling out to someone.

Waiting tensely, the little boy wondered if he was going to be punished for disobeying. It was always good to obey others, wasn't it? Gilbert had told him that as a nation you were to _always _respect and obey your leaders…but Ludwig just did not think of the Bonapartes, the French, or France himself as his leader. Although he knew he probably should not, the small blonde found himself looking inward more so, he had a strange rebellious tendency that wept for independence from the situation entirely. But as things were at the moment, he could do nothing but accept that he was not his own nation and that another would rule over him.

Just a second later, a young woman walked in, her head was low, her eyes downcast. The queen said something very rapidly, discouraging Ludwig from trying to figure out what she wanted. The girl nodded several times before apparently acknowledging that she understood the other woman. The girl stepped forward, towards Ludwig, and stopped so that she was directly between the queen and the nation.

"_Guten Tag_," the girl said gently, startling the confederation. "Her majesty, Empress Joséphine, would like to welcome you to France."

It had been days since he had last spoken, and although he felt a bit intimidated being in France and not knowing the French language, Ludwig was getting tired of not being able to express himself in words. But now that there was someone who had a surprisingly good German accent and seemed to speak his language fluently, the child found himself still unwilling to speak. He had not spoken to France and he did not want to speak to anyone else either. So, to acknowledge that he could at least hear, he nodded once for the girl.

Behind the girl, Lady Joséphine quickly said something for the other to interpret. "My lady wishes you no harm _Rheinbund_. She would like it know that she will not harm you."

Again, Ludwig nodded, but he did not speak.

Once more, the lady spoke to her interpreter, and the girl turned back to the nation. "My lady wishes to know why you do not speak. Are you mute?"

Staring resolutely at Otto, the boy shook his head negative. He could not lie to the Empress of France, but at the same time he did not feel much like giving her the pleasure of hearing him. Wasn't it enough that he was there? If he couldn't be with Gilbert or even Roderich, he at least wished he could be back among the Germans, his people. Why did he have to be _here_?

Lady Joséphine said something and laughed at her own wit, before she rapidly gave orders to her servant girl. The young woman nodded and then bowed deeply to the monarch before she turned and walked towards the boy. Ludwig stiffened as the servant came towards him, but she had such a soft look of pity and understanding that he calmed slightly.

"Please come with me, _kleiner bund_," she said gently.

Looking at the girl's face, Ludwig realized that this servant did not appear to be very French, making him believe that her accent was genuine and that she truly was German. Knowing that his allies here in France would be very limited, he took the girl's hand. She seemed a little surprised at his willingness and quick obedience, but she did not comment. Instead she walked him out of the room and made her way through the confusing labyrinths of hallways.

As they twisted down the corridors together, Ludwig could not help the tears the suddenly sprang into his eyes. He was not so scared anymore, not that he had found another German, but he was finding himself becoming depressed. How was he ever going to get out of this? How was he going to find his brother again?

They came to a stop outside of a large looking room. The girl opened the door and called for several servants that looked like they didn't know what they were doing to come over. The child realized that they were carrying his belongings and at the girl's orders, they took them inside the room she had opened.

It did not take long for them to dispose of the bag that Gilbert had packed for the tiny blonde. The servants nodded towards both the girl and the nation before they left. Once they were gone, the girl lead Ludwig in. "These will be your chambers now," her voice was very tender, but it sounded almost sad. "If you wish to unpack and get situated, then you may."

Taking in the finery of the room was nearly impossible the first time around. Ludwig was certain that he had been given the room of the emperor himself! But while the room was everything lavish and beautiful, the boy could not help but miss the transformed fort that was always clean, but seemed a little too full. He missed Gilbert.

"I will leave you alone, if you wish," the girl startled him out of his thoughts. "You look tired," she smiled compassionately. "Why not rest? I will call for you in several hours for dinner."

Ludwig nodded and graced his guide with just a hint of a smile. She had been very kind to him, and she was German after all. If he was going to survive this place, he would need allies, right? Maybe this girl could prove to be that important ally?

She also blessed him with a lovely smile before she bowed to him. As she turned to leave, Ludwig turned his attention to the bag that had been left of on the floor. He did not watch her leave, but he traced her soft footfalls and heard the door open, insuring him that she was really going.

"Rest well, _Deutschland._"

Ludwig spun around quickly, surprised at the name she had called him, but the girl was gone. And just like that, he was alone again.

He was alone in a foreign land without his brother. And yet, as he crawled onto the large bed that was for his use, Ludwig could not help the small smile that came to his lips. He might be trapped under the control of France, he might not see his brother again for a long time, but he was still _him_, he was still _Deutschland_. It pleased him to know that someone else knew that too.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So…I spilled water all over my computer about a week ago. . Sorry for the slight delay in update…I'm rather clumsy, you see…but I hope you all liked this newest chapter. As you can see, France already knows that it might be a good idea to keep an extra eye on Ludwig, while Ludwig is already trying to gain a firmer foothold in France by making friends with the German servant girl who does not quite seem him as France's confederation *gasp!* But wasn't sad France thought Ludwig's new clothes looked poor? :(

Gilbert, on the other hand, is working hard to organize a campaign that will kick France's ass. Hope you all enjoyed our first glimpse into Russia. And for those of you wondering why Russia lost the smile at the end, I believe that the Russia that's constantly smiling, even to himself and completely and irrevocably insane would be Soviet Union Russia. During WWI is when I believe he started slipping down the steep road to total insanity and then with the Civil War and then the rise of Communism…yeah, that's when you'll see Ivan changing a bit more in this…

**History: **Russia and the Ottoman Empire also began a war in 1806. (It was a good year for war apparently…) Russia was late in aiding Prussia in October of 1806 and lead to Prussia being overrun by the French for a time. Napoléon Bonaparte really was 5'6". Because of an old French measuring system, he was recorded around 5'2", which does not correlate with our measuring system today, so while he was rather small, he was really not hobbit.

**Russian: **_Dobryi vecher_: Добрый вечер: Good evening. Ne razocharovivay menya:Не разочаровывай меня: Do not disappoint me. _Prussiya_: Пруссия: Prussia.

*BIG thanks to DoktorZeirmit for some help with the Russian! THANKS!

**French: **_Confédération du Rhin_- Confederation of the Rhine. _Mon petit_- my little one. _mon petit chou_- my little cabbage (a French endearment). _Je suis de retour, mon Empereur!_- I have returned, my emperor! _Comment allez-vous?_- How are you? _Trés bien, merci - _Very well, thank you. _C'est excellent_- Excellent! (like very excellent). _Et_ _qui est cette personne la'?_- And who is this? (a more polite way of saying it). _Magnifique! _- Magnificent! _Parlez-vous français?_- do you speak French? _Prussien-_ Prussian. _Le garcon_- the boy. _Comme vous voulez_- As you wish. _Comme il est beau!_- he is so handsome! _Venir ici, mon petit-_ come here, my little one.

*Thanks to EhCanuck who caught a French error! Thanks so much!

**German: **_Guten Tag-_ _formal_ Hello. _kleiner bund-_ little alliance.

Thanks again everyone who has been reviewing this! Reviews are very much appreciated! Thanks to everyone who does! :)


	11. Chapter 10: Creating Tensions

**Warning: **This chapter contains foul language, suggestions of rape, and mild violence.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Creating Tensions**

_He was walking away, out of an archway, walking out of courtyard. He wasn't the only one, there were lots of people leaving, but as to the reason why they were all going, he could not fathom. "Goodbye! Stay safe!" someone from behind him called. It was a sweet voice, a little voice, but when he turned around, there was no one. _

_They went on for what seemed like days. He was now sitting on a horse, overlooking a large field at the front of a great mass of men. He had no idea what he was looking for, just that there was something that was supposed to be there. Something was supposed to happen. If only he could remember it…_

_A shot was fired out of nowhere and struck him. While it only grazed his arm, the sheer surprise of being shot at and the wind off the projectile was enough to knock him off his horse. "For the Empire!" a mighty cry went up all around him as the men— soldiers he realized now— charged out into the open field. _

_The reverberation of fighting erupted all around him and he knew that he should get up as well and help fight, but he could not. No matter how hard he tried, he could not move. Everything around him erupted into panic. Horses whined in fear, gun fire rang in the air, screams burst forth from the throats of men; whether from the heat of battle or from pain, he did not know. Perhaps both. _

_He was now standing and all around him there were fallen bodies. Corpses scattered across the open field, men still breathing, gasping, groaning in pain. The noise was deafening, and yet it soon fell away and he could not hear anything. It was as though he had gone deaf. Had he? He could not recall how it had happened if that were the case. _

_Unsheathing his sword, he looked around, trying to find someone to fight him. It was his duty, after all, to fight and protect these people, was it not? He did not know why it was, but he knew that he had to do something_ _for these men. They were dying for him. _

_But just as he was about to charge, something happened. His heart stopped and his eyes widened in staggered pain. He knew that he'd been sick for a while, why, he couldn't remember, but he did know that he had been failing. He had tried so hard to keep going, to keep himself together, but his slow decay had been enviable. And now, on this battlefield, it seemed that this was the place where he would draw his last breath. _

_Falling backwards, he was suddenly ceased with uncontrollable fear. What was going to happen to him? What would happen to his people? Would anyone even mourn his passing? _

_He landed on the ground with a hard _thud_, knocking his head with enough force to rattle his teeth. He ended up biting his tongue and as he lay paralyzed upon the ground, in a mound of corpses, tasting the coppery tang of blood. The scent of gunpowder and burning flesh wafted into his nostrils making him gag, even as he still could not breathe. _

_Strange men came into view and stared down at him cruelly. A thrill of horror shot through his heart as one picked him up. He still could not move, could not breathe, could not hear. The man holding him was saying something, but he could not hear. With a quick flash, there was a knife held to his throat, intent on slitting it. He only wished he could have closed his eyes so he did not have to see it coming, didn't have to see that malicious look about the man before him. _

_But the sting of the blade never came. Instead, he found himself falling back down to the earth. He hit hard enough that all the precious little air still in his lungs was forced out, leaving him lightheaded. His sight began to fail; blackness crept in from the corners of his vision. This was it, he was finished. He would die here on this battlefield, alone and without anyone to care for him. His only regret was that he would never be able to tell those that he cherished most how much he really did love them. _

_Just as everything nearly faded into darkness, there was suddenly a face before him, a very familiar face. The face belonged to a severe looking man with long blonde hair. His cobalt eyes bore into him, pinning him down like a sword. And yet, this face calmed him. He wanted to cry out for help, wanted this man to ease his suffering, but the man simply stared at him, the all too familiar look of disappointment radiating from those cold eyes. _

"_Not yet, _mein Sohn,_" the man shook his head. _

_Desperate for relief, desperate for any kind of help, he tried to move ,tried to speak, tried to do anything that he could, but he could do nothing. There were no words to describe the despair he felt in that moment, longing for his suffering to end, feeling betrayed that this man, this man that he loved and respected, would not help him. He wanted everything to go away, wanted peace…wanted death. _

_As though knowing his thoughts, the man before him shook his head, features ever grim. "This is not for you, _Sohn_. Not yet."_

_Before he had enough time to even ponder this curious thought, the man reached out towards him and with more tenderness than was customary for this man, gently touched his forehead, as though bestowing some sort of blessing. The man then leaned over and whispered ever so lightly, "Fly! Into the forest, little deer. Flee and do not come back."_

_As the man pulled away, the familiar face bestowed a slight smile upon him. The man kissed his forehead once more in the sign of some old blessing. The moment those lips parted from his skin, pain exploded from his head and air came rushing back into his lungs like the great crashing of waves._ _He was suddenly able to move and he curled in on himself and cried out in a loud voice, letting the world know of his agony and anguish. _

"_It's finished!" someone cried from around him. "The Empire's failed us!"_

_Those words stung him, cut into his heart like a spear, and tears pooled in his eyes. Dizzy and ill, but heavy with grief, he got to his feet and ran. He ran as fast as he could, away from the battle, away from the people that had given up on him, from the people he had let down. He hurt, he was confused, his head was throbbing mercilessly, but he did not slow, but kept on running without looking back. He did not want to look back. _

_He ran until he couldn't and he collapsed and began to weep. He curled in around himself and simply cried until his stomach hurt. He was alone now, without a peoples, without a home, without anyone to care for him. He stayed there in his pathetic state, his head pounding excruciatingly until he thought he might get ill. _

_As his eyes closed, exhaustion overcoming him at last, he felt strange. He did not want to remember his disgrace, his humiliation, his failure, and as he closed his eyes, the memories that had once seemed so permanently burned into his mind eases and seemed less significant. Maybe if he just rested a while those dreadful memories would be forgotten. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to forget…_

Ludwig shot up in bed, panting, dripping with cold sweat. Tears were running down his cheeks as he glanced about his dark room frantically. "_Bruder_!" he cried out in desperation.

"_Deutschland_?" the young German girl came running into the room, a look of concern etched into her soft features. "_Kleiner_, what is wrong?" she went to the little nation and scooped him up in her arms, hugging him close. "Was it a nightmare?"

The little German did not respond, but simply wept while safely in Ida's arms. He did not respond to her, he knew he didn't have to. While he was with her, he was safe, free of demand, free of the world…it was almost like being with Gilbert.

"It was only a dream," Ida soothed gently, rubbing his back and swaying. "Only a dream."

Yes, it had only been a dream. The same horrid dream that he had nearly every night. The same horrid dream that left him trembling and in tears, feeling such utter despondency that he thought he might never be happy again. The same dream that always left him miserable and empty.

When he woke from this dream, trembling, he felt so alone. It was as though his very soul had been broken into a thousand pieces and his head split open with an axe. He felt sick, like he had been forced to swallow something foul. But perhaps the worst part of all was how he could never quite remember the dream that reduced him into such a pitiable state…

**oOoOoOo**

"Ugh!" Gilbert slammed his fists down onto the table he was working on, nearly breaking it in half. "That traitorous bastard! Why is everyone so _worthless!_" he cried to no one in particular. The little yellow bird that seemed stationed on his head hopped up and flew away from his master's wrath.

The nation glared down at all of the maps scattered across the table with disgust. Why was it that nothing _ever _seemed to go his way anymore? Thus far each attack launched against France had either ended in failure or stalemate. It was already June and France had won _another _decisive victory over Russia a little over a week ago. But that wasn't even the worst of it! Now that traitor Russia was making his _peace _with France! The nerve! After everything that he had done, after all the troops he had been sending, that turncoat decided to call truce with France!

"_Himmel donner wetter!_" he screamed at the top of his lungs, furious tears welling up in his ruby eyes as he once again slammed his fists into the table. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

There had to be a way out of all of this! There just had to be some sort of solution to stop France and that damned Napoleon! How the hell had that Frog-face gotten so strong anyway? It just didn't seem possible that the French troops could be this strong or well trained!

Standing up, Gilbert began pacing, desperate to think of some kind of plan, some sort of miracle that could get him out of this. This wasn't just about being the best, about saving his reputation, this was about his people, his land…his brother.

Prussia froze mid step as his mind filled with the image of that tiny little blonde that had somehow captured his heart in less time than it had taken Napoleon to seize control of his lands. Why was it that he even cared so much about that boy anyway? He had only taken care of the little thing several months, and yet in that short amount of time he had come to love the child completely, more than he had anyone else.

Then again, that wasn't quite right, was it? It's not like Prussia had never known the littler nation. Ludwig had once been Gerwig, the Holy Roman Empire. There had been a time when that sweet little boy that Gilbert had become so fond of recently was an arrogant, controlling confederation that, at one point, had nearly dominated over the whole of Central Europe. Hell, there had even been a time when that same child had forced Gilbert, the _awesome him_, into accepting his authority and rule! There had been a time when the sweet little boy that had recently been named Ludwig had been nearly as terrible as France was at the moment, conquering land after land, growing stronger until he was nearly as powerful as the old Roman Empire himself!

…But that had been a long time ago. The controlling child that had once ruled the greater half of Europe was gone now and all that was left of that once mighty empire was his body, just the shell of what he had once been. There was no longer any memory of greatness, of achievements long past. There was no longer any recollection of having risen out of the ashes of the old German confederation or from Germania himself. Ludwig was a blank slate, so trusting and innocent and Gilbert loved him because he had reverted back into his former self, the charming little boy he had been before becoming great.

Shaking his head, Gilbert sat back down in his chair heavily. His head feel into his hands and he simply sat, trying to clear his head of all of the millions of thoughts that would not leave him in peace. What did it matter that Ludwig wasn't acting like how he used to? Nations always changed when they were named something else that was just the nature of things. At the moment he could not get caught up in thinking about his little brother so much, at least not the person. There was a war going on and his lands were being occupied by the French with the Russians turning sides. There were more important things to think about than one little boy.

With a heavy sigh, Prussia sat up and looked back down at his maps, all skewed in every which direction. It looked terribly messy, and he couldn't help the small smile that slipped onto his lips as he thought of how annoyed Ludwig would be if he saw this clutter. Although their time together had been short, it had not remained a secret for long that the child despised mess and clutter.

"Well shit," Gilbert sigh. The plan of not thinking about Ludwig seemed to have failed spectacularly. Not even thirty seconds into deciding that he shouldn't think of Ludwig he had.

Standing up once more, the northern kingdom walked over to his bookshelf, intent on grabbing his journal to write down some of his conflicting thoughts when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was not one to shy away from his own reflection by any means, but as he looked at himself at that moment he couldn't help but wince. He looked terrible. His fair hair was unkempt and his uniform was wrinkled from having been worn repeatedly without wash. His eyes were slightly glazed and there were dark bruises under his eyes from having not slept well for a very long time. The devilish grin that he had become infamous for had not made its appearance for a very long while now. All in all, Gilbert almost looked like a different person.

The tiny yellow bird came back to him at that moment and sat on top of his head. With another sigh, Prussia grabbed his journal and went to sit down and write. It took him a little while to get started, to think about what to put down, but once he began, the words seemed to flow out of him. The ink bled into the pages, permanently marking so that future generations could see. That's what he wanted after all, he wanted the world to know about him, wanted everyone to know that he was great…even though at the moment, he didn't feel all that great.

Prussia continued for the better part of an hour before his eyes became heavy and his head was too much to uphold. Slowly, the albino began to sag and he slumped down in his seat. The moment his head touched the table top, he was asleep; frustrations and worries forgotten for a time, leaving him in false peace so that he could dream.

**oOoOoOo**

"_Comment vous appellez- vous?_"

Silence.

"_D'où venez vous_?"

Silence.

"_Parlez-vous français?_"

Again, the question was met with silence.

"Augh!" Francis threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Fine, forget our French lesson! Don't talk to me in French, but at least say _something_!" he pleaded.

His frustrations were met with only a blink from large blue eyes, the small child before him refusing to speak.

"I give up!" the empire sighed dramatically. "It's been six months and still you say nothing to me! Not one word! Are you mute, _mon petit chou_? Is that why you do not speak to me?"

The little confederation scowled darkly at the great empire before him, causing the Frenchmen to pull back in alarm. It had been many months since the little boy had come to live in France, but not much had changed since the first meeting. The child refused to speak and he still scared the shit out of Francis when he had the mind to. Looking into those abysmally cold eyes and the glares of utter hatred always left the larger nation feeling breathless and sick He was still afraid that one night the boy was going to sneak into his room and stab him through the throat.

"Fine, fine, have it your way," Francis held up his hands in defeat. "You do not have to speak to me. But I wish you would, _mon petit_." He took a deep breath and forced himself to step forward so that he could kneel before the little boy. He tried to put on his most charming smile. "I am not so very bad, you see. I can be a very great friend."

For all of his efforts, France was rewarded with another cold glower before the child hopped out of his seat and proceeded to walk away from the big nation, who was still on his knees. It stung the empire's pride—to say the least!—at how flippant the boy was with him. Didn't that little hell spawn understand the nature of things? France was the boss, the confederation the lackey! So why then was _he _on his knees and the boy walking away without even a single glance backwards and not an ounce of concern?

With a grumble, Francis got to his feet and walked towards his office. He rubbed his temples, wondering if he would always get headaches like this when he was near the child. How could _anyone _put up with such a little brat? Granted, he was a very _cute _brat, adorable even, but still one of the foulest tempered little things France had ever seen! This kid freaked him out almost as much as Russia!

As he walked to his office, France happened upon an astonishing sight. There, just outside of the _Confédération du Rhin_'s chambers was that German servant girl that Lady Joséphine was so fond of standing with the little nation. She was talking to him, but that wasn't what grabbed Francis's attention right away, it was the fact that the child was answering back!

"I don't believe it!" he exclaimed. His voice must have carried because the moment he had spoken, the child stopped mid-sentence and stared over at the empire. The girl also turned to look at the other nation, and both Germans seemed rather uncomfortable about being caught conversing.

Without waiting another moment, France charged towards the two and stood frowning down at the boy. "So you can talk!" he cried. "There's no use denying it now, I caught you! Now, why do you not talk to me, but you talk to this servant girl?"

The child had recovered remarkably fast from his initial surprise and returned the frown with a scowl of his own, but otherwise did not answer.

"Oh no," France looked away. "Not this time, child. Answer my question or no supper for you this evening!"

Pale eyes did not for one moment lessen their loathing, and instead of caving to the threat, the little boy turned once more from the greater nation and walked into his room. Before France could stop him, the child slammed the door in the nation's face. Absolutely shocked, the empire just stood there a moment wishing he could burn holes through the door with his eyes.

A magnificent blush crept over his cheeks from both anger and embarrassment, and he dreaded turning around to see how that servant girl was staring at him. She probably thought it was pathetic that the great France had been treated worse than dirt by the small little confederation he supposedly ruled over. It was humiliating.

When he finally did muster the courage to look at the girl, he found her blushing as well, still looking a bit surprised. She had obviously not expected the child to behave so boldly. "You will not tell anyone of this," France said stiffly, his pride wounded.

"_Oui_!" the girl nodded. "Of course, _monsieur_."

France turned fully so that he could take a better look at the girl before him. She could not have been more than seventeen-years-old. Her long blonde hair was tied loosely with strands of hair hanging in her face, trying to hide lovely cornflower-blue eyes. Her skin was quite pale for having to work out of doors often and her face was round and held a sweetness that usually left girls her age long ago. Overall, she was a very lovely young thing, and France could not help but wonder if this girl had some sort of man in her life.

"What is your name?" he asked her.

"Ida," her voice was sweet, but held reminisce of the coarse German accent. It sounded as though she came from the east.

"Ida," he said her name gently, smiling handsomely for her. "Will you please come with me?"

The girl's face almost instantly heated up, a brilliant pink blush spread across her face in a most becoming fashion. "O-of course, _monsieur_."

Smiling encouragingly, France led her away, making sure that she was keeping up with his long strides. She kept her head down, her eyes fixed on the ground in front of her. There was something in the action that made her seem much younger.

They came to a stop outside of France's office and he opened the door for her like a true gentlemen. Again, she flushed as she stepped inside. Francis stepped in as well and closed the door behind him. "You are not in trouble, _ma cherie_," he smiled at her nervousness. "I simply wish to ask you a question."

"Y-yes, _monsieur_." Again, she did not look up.

Smiling to himself, enjoying her blushes, France sat down and motioned for her to do the same if she wished. "I was merely wondering why it is that _mon petit __Confédération_ will speak with you and not even to the nation over him?"

For the first time since the awkward moment past outside of the little boy's chambers, Ida looked up at the empire, her blue eyes wide. "Oh…well, I'm sure it's just that he's a little shy," she said quickly. "He is in a strange place after all, far from his home."

"But his home should be where his over lord is," France said quietly, thinking to himself. "As a confederation, his proper home is where his ruler is and his ruler is here."

"Oh," was all the girl said for a moment. "Well, he is still young. I'm sure he only talks to me because I am German."

France looked up at this, regarding the German carefully. Her dress was a little tight across the bosom, and he appreciated that fact. She had a womanly curve for one still so young and, again, he was delighted at the fact. "You are Prussian, aren't you?" he asked carefully.

Cornflower blue eyes widened for a moment before the girl nodded. "_Oui, __monsieur_."

"How old are you?" he asked her softly.

"_Monsieur_?" she peeked up at him surprised.

Smiling merrily, Francis stood up and walked over to the girl. He got very close to her. "How old are you?" he repeated.

"_Dix-neuf, monsieur_," her voice dropped down into a whisper.

Nineteen? Well, that was older than the nation had been expecting. She had such a youthful face and such tantalizing womanly curves. He loved it. "_Ma cherie_," he took another step closer to her so that he was nearly face to face with her, but she did not back away. "I want you to get the confederation to talk to me before I leave for Tilsit in two days. Can you do this? Can you serve your empire in this way?"

"I-I'm not sure if he will speak," Ida shook her head. "He only speaks when he wishes... But I will try."

"Good." Francis lifted the girl's chin up so that she was looking at him. "Because if you can't do that, then there are" —he paused a moment, taking in the beautiful sight before him— "other ways to serve your empire."

Without waiting for her to process his words, France leaned over and captured her lips, just as he had captured nearly the whole of Europe. He was able to get away with the act for just a moment longer before Ida seemed to come out of her shock and push the nation away. Francis licked his lips, still enjoying her taste and her horrified sapphire eyes.

"I believe Lady Joséphine is needing you," Francis smirked at the girl.

Ida's face was scarlet, but she managed to nod and curtsey before she all but ran from the room. France watched her go, enjoying the way her hips moved. A part of him wished that the boy would hold his silence just so that he'd have an excuse to carry out his threat on the girl. But he could not think on that. There were things to do, clothes to pack for his journey to Russia.

As he quit the room, Francis did not notice that the other door had been cracked open, nor did he see the small figure that had run away the moment Ida had.

**oOoOoOo**

The next day when Ludwig woke, he was worried. He hadn't seen Ida the rest of the day yesterday after he had spied on hers and France's "conversation". He was worried. What if France really had done something to her? What if she had gotten into trouble all because of him?

Guilt weighed heavily upon the little nation's heart. Although he was not sure why he would know, he _did_ understand what France had meant when he'd said, "there are other ways to serve your empire." A shiver ran up his spine just thinking about what could happen to the girl. Nations were supposed to protect and care for their people, right? Then why hadn't he protected her?

There came a soft knock at the door and he knew it was Ida. She came by at this time every morning. Ludwig sat still on his bed, dressed and ready, waiting patiently for the girl who had become so much like a mother to him to enter. Predictably she came in after waiting ten seconds.

"_Deutschland?_" she called out to him, peeking her head in. Ludwig smiled at her as she walked in. She smiled back. "How are you this morning, little one?"

"_Danke, gut_," he responded quietly. He suddenly felt guilty again. Looking into Ida's sweet face, so loving and warm, made him ashamed that he'd put her in a terrible position.

"What is wrong, _kleiner_?" she asked, suddenly worried. "Are you not feeling well?"

"_Nein_, I am well," he shook his head. "It's just…I have to see _Frankreich_ again today, don't I?"

Ludwig watched Ida carefully to see her reaction. Would she tell him now that he had to speak to France today? Would she go into detail as to why he had to, or would her sensitivities not allow her to go into detail? Would she get upset with him? Why wasn't she upset with him now?

The delicate smile that always seemed to grace her lips fled instantly at the mention of France and the pink of her cheeks seemed to disappear, but she did not show any other signs of discomfort. "_Ja_, you must see _Frankreich_," Ida came and sat down on the bed next to the little boy. She put her arm around him and he crawled into her lap. "But do not fret, _Schätzchen_," her voice was very soothing; her accent was just like Gilbert's. "It will be well. It will be like every other day, will it not?"

That was it. Ludwig could hardly stand it anymore. She wasn't going to tell him about France's threats. She wasn't going to make him talk to France if he didn't want to. It nearly broke the boy's heart. _He _was supposed to her protecting her, not the other way around! She would let herself be abused rather than force him, or even ask him, to do anything he didn't want to. She was so good to him and he loved her.

"_Nein_, it doesn't have to be different," he shrugged, not wanting her to suspect that he knew anything.

Ida kissed the top of his head as she was wont to do at times. "Come then," her voice was as warm as a summer day, dripping in affection. "He will want to see you before he makes his plans to leave soon."

The boy nodded and together the two Germans stood and made their way to France, Ida carrying her little charge. Ludwig felt very safe in the girl's arms. It felt good to be hugged by a woman, feeling comforted and safe…but he still missed Gilbert, the feel of strong arms, the smell of cotton, leather, and beer. Ida was wonderful, but if Ludwig could just have Gilbert too then everything would be perfect. Maybe one day, when Gilbert defeated France, the three of them could start a family together…

Once outside of France's office, Ida knocked and waited for an answer. She kissed Ludwig's head once more just before she set him down. Another servant opened the door to allow the other two entrance and they went before the empire's desk, waiting for him to acknowledge their presence. France was hurriedly scribbling down something before he sent it with a messenger. Once he was finished, he looked up at his two visitors with shining blue eyes.

"Ah! So you are here once more, little one," he smiled down at the boy before winking at Ida. Ludwig felt his stomach tighten with anger. "How are you today, Confederation?" he asked in German, foregoing the French.

Ludwig snuck a look at Ida, waiting for her to give him some kind of sign, but she did not look at him. He looked at France to see that he was waiting for an answer, but he did not seem like he was really expecting much. Just as the empire was about to speak, Ludwig took a deep breath and answered before the other could speak. "_Trés bien, merci._"

Everyone in the room— France, Ida, the other servants— all seemed to freeze in place and stare over at the little boy that had just, for many of them, spoken for the first time. Feeling very nervous, Ludwig began to shift a bit uncomfortable with all of the attention suddenly on him, and a blush spread across his cheeks, but he did not back away. He was doing this to protect Ida.

France looked completely flabbergasted, like he'd just swallowed a fish whole, and he blinked several times stupidly. "Oh…well…good." He seemed so surprised that he even forgot to answer back in French.

Taking another deep breath, Ludwig decided that since Ida seemed out of the danger zone, he had to secure that position. "_Comment allez-vous?_" he asked. Despite not having talked to anyone but Ida since coming to France, Ludwig had been paying attention in all of his French lessons with the empire. The language was strange, but he had been able to grasp it pretty quickly. Ida said he must be very gifted in language.

"Oh, _magnifique, mon petit chou_!" France exclaimed in absolute delight. "Ah! What a beautiful voice you have! See, that wasn't so hard, was it? To speak to your big brother, France?"

Hearing the bigger nation proclaim himself "big brother" made the child's blood boil. France was _not _Ludwig's big brother. That privilege was reserved for Gilbert, and Gilbert alone! There was no way that the little blonde would _ever _want anyone to even _think _he was related to this monster! Glaring venomously at the blonde man, but still not wanting to endanger Ida, Ludwig simply shook his head in the negative.

Ludwig always enjoyed watching the bigger nation cringe slightly at his looks of death. "Ah, well," France said before getting up. "Very well done, Ida," he turned to the servant girl, speaking in French, not knowing that the boy understood him perfectly. "You've upheld your end of the deal. But I have been called away sooner than I'd originally thought. I am leaving today for Tilsit. Make sure that the boy is keeping up with his French and have him speak for the Lady Joséphine."

"_Oui, monsieur_," Ida curtsied.

France turned back to the boy. "I shall be back in a few weeks. Be good boy and work on your French with Ida. I shall want a full conversation with you when I return. _Au revoir!_" he bowed to them dramatically before he sashayed out of the room, as though he'd won some kind of great victory.

Ludwig and Ida watched him go, twin expressions of relief on their faces. They looked at each other and smiled. Looking into the girl's eyes, the little nation could tell she knew that he'd understood her situation somehow. She leaned over and took him in her arms before walking out. Neither one spoke until they had returned to Ludwig's chambers.

"_Danke schön_, _Schätzchen_," she said once they were alone. She hugged him fiercely to her, rocking him back and forth gently.

It was in that moment that Ludwig began to understand what it meant to be a nation. It was his duty to protect his people, those that wished to protect him, those that wanted a Germany. Gilbert had been right at the beginning, he really was _Deutschland _no matter what others thought he was. He wanted to defend everyone, wanted to guide and protect them all because he realized just how wonderful it really felt.

**oOoOoOo**

About two weeks later found Gilbert at the town of Tilsit. He, the king, and several of his government advisors had been summoned by the _illustrious _Napoleon. Just thinking about that man and his empire made Gilbert sick to his stomach. He knew what this was going to be about and he dreaded it.

As the men spoke to one another, Gilbert sought out France and Russia to discuss the implications of their governments' actions. He could not help he hatred that swelled in his chest when he caught sight of the two empires. "Well, well, well," Prussia said, strutting up to the other two cockily, not wanting them to sense his discomfort and fear. "What have we here? A _Mutterficker _and a _Verräter_ together in the same place. How appropriate."

France laughed while Russia smiled on, neither one rising to the bait. "_Bonjour, Prusse,_" France greeted amiably. "It's been a while."

"_Dobryi den',_" Russia smiled.

Gilbert scowled at the larger empire darkly, before smirking. "Would have never thought that _you, _of all people, would have signed on with France, _Russland_." Ruby eyes glistened with fury, as he glared at the traitorous nation.

The big nation's sweet smile never faltered for a single moment as he shrugged his shoulders slightly. "_Vremena menyajutsya,_" he said simply. Gilbert just knew the other nation was taking delight with his fury.

"Enough pleasantries," France yawned, as though completely undisturbed by the fact that Prussia looked close to murder. "You know why we are here, _non_?"

Balling his hands into fists, Gilbert tried to count backwards from ten to calm himself. "_Ja_," he nodded once, hoping he did not sound sad.

"Good," France said as he took out a piece of parchment. "According to terms, you are to surrender County of Mark, with Essen, Werden, and Lippstadt, the principality of Minden, the county of Ravensberg, Lingen and Tecklenburg, Cleve, on the German side of the Rhine, the principality of East Friesland, the principality of Münster, and the principality of Paderborn along with Magdeburg, with that pare of the duchy on the left bank of the Elbe, Halle, County of Mansfeld, the principality of Halberstadt, the county of Hohenstein, the territory of Quedlinburg, and the principality of Hildesheim and Goslar."

Gilbert's eyes widened in horror. "That's nearly four hundred miles!" he cried, shocked. He had not thought he's kingdom would be so greatly affected.

"You are also expected," France went on, "to reduce your army and pay a fine to my government. Your own government should be receiving the exact numbers."

The albino was appalled with the terms. He wanted to refuse on the spot, tell that bastard to go fuck himself, but he could do nothing about it. France— as much as Gilbert hated to admit it—was the stronger nation and he now had Russia on his side as well. He knew there was no way he could refuse the terms without being completely wiped off the face of the earth, but still…

"Fine," Prussia spat bitterly. "Fine, I…I agree."

"Very good," France purred, smiling.

As Gilbert signed the terms he suddenly felt very weak and ill. France and Russia, as was custom among nations in this situation, began beating the weaker nation down. Each blow reminded the German of just how low he had gotten in life. A kick to the stomach was the loss of land to Russia, the kick to the head was losing the land north of Saxony. Gilbert could not recall having ever felt so humiliated in his life.

The two empires continued their abuse until Prussia was lying on the ground, curled up trying to protect himself as best as he could under the unfair attack, bleeding. He could not breathe properly and it hurt, signaling to him that he must have broken some ribs. But even as it hurt, he did not move, waiting for the others to leave him. Although he wounded terribly, pain radiating throughout his body, Gilbert refused to cry. He had already been disgraced enough; he did not need to hear them mock anymore.

"Step out of line, _Prusse_ and you will no longer exist at all," France threatened before turning to the other nation. "Shall we continue our talks, _Russie_?"

Turning his head as best as he could, Prussia looked up to find amethyst eyes staring down at him, but what surprised the weak kingdom was the pity he saw in them. "_Da_," he nodded. "We shall talk."

France grinned merrily as he began walking. "It is so wonderful that we've made such a powerful alliance, _non_?" he laughed, not even turning his head to see that the Russian was not following him.

Russia continued to stare down at the bleeding nation on the ground, his customary smile slipping from his face. It was the first time that Gilbert could remember seeing the big empire look like that and he wondered if it was just his imagination stemming from some sort of brain injury.

"_Da,_" Ivan answered the expanding empire, but added softly, "_noh Vremena menyajutsya_…" The eastern empire turned and followed in the direction France had gone, before throwing over his shoulder, "_Do Svidaniya,__ Prussiya__."_

Left alone, Gilbert struggled to get up. Several minutes later, King Frederich Wilhelm III saw his beloved nation and ran to him. Several men also ran to the aid of the fallen kingdom and together they carried Prussia back to their camp. It was as he was being carried away that Gilbert saw Russia, standing with several of his own men, looking sad and displeased.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Russia's the one giving everyone hope? What the crap's up with that? But no, France might be on top at the moment, but he's not doing a very good job at keeping everyone happy, is he? He's such an ass right now, but he'll get knocked off his pedestal soon enough. All countries get too big for their britches when they think they're the best. That's just how it goes.

The beginning is a dream, obviously, sort of telling you what happened to Ludwig, although he does not remember it when he's awake. And also, Ludwig's flippant because the German states could do what they wanted, they just had to honor Napoleon. It was under Napoleon's rule that the Germans began believing that there should be a united Germany.

**History: **June 14, 1807 France wins a decisive victory over Russia at Friedland. June 25 Napoleon and Tsar Alexander I meet together at Tilsit and hit it off remarkably well and decide to make an alliance. (This meeting is actually really cool and I suggest you look it up for details if you're interested). Later on, on July 7 the first Treaty of Tilsit was signed between France and Russia in the middle of the Neman River. Two days later, on July 9, Prussia signed the second Treaty of Tilsit which stripped of nearly half its land (which I listed before in the story). It was also expected to reduce its army to only about 40,000 and was expected to pay 100,000,000 francs and could no longer trade with Britain.

The good news to Prussia's woes was that the Russians saw the treaty with Prussia grossly unfair and was sympathetic. They saw it as a low blow and underhanded which would later be part of what destroyed the alliance between France and Russia.

**French:**_ Comment vous appellez- vous?-_What is your name?_ D'où venez vous_?-Where do you come from?_ Parlez-vous français?-_Do you speak French? _mon petit chou_-my little cabbage (form of endearment)_ ma cherie-_my dear _Trés bien, merci-_ very well, thank you. _Comment allez-vous?_-how are you? _Au revoir-_ Goodbye!

**German:** _mein Sohn_-my son._ Kleiner-_little one. _Himmel donner wetter-_ literally translates to "Sky Thunder Weather" but there is no real translation for it. It is typically used at the beginning of an exclamation to show sheer and utter frustration._ Danke, gut- _literally thanks, good but can be fine, thanks. _Schätzchen-_ (like) little treasure. _Mutterficker-_literally Mother fucker. _Verräter-_ traitor.

**Russian:**_ Dobryi den'-_ Добрый день- Good day. _Vremena menyajutsya- _Времена меняются- Times change. (_Noh Vremena menyajutsya- _but times change, just add a но at the beginning.) _Do Svidaniya,__ Prussiya__.- _До свидания, Пруссия- Goodbye, Prussia.

**** Another HUGE thanks to DoktorZeirmit for helping me with the Russian! Thanks! :)


	12. Chapter 11: Plots and Pillow Fights

**Chapter Eleven: Plots and Pillow Fights**

Gilbert walked down the hall to attend a meeting with his boss with a heavy heart. While it had been a few years since he had been downsized, Prussia was still felt weak and often walked with a limp on his worst days. It was humiliating and he could not help but feel like he had let everyone down. He just knew that everyone was disappointed in him.

The servants opened the doors for him that led to the meeting room, and Gilbert walked past them without his legendary strut or the self-proclamation of "the awesome _me _has arrived!" He hadn't been feeling so very awesome the last few years... "You called me, your highness?" he asked instead, his normally obnoxious voice hallow and quiet.

Ruby eyes caught sight of a very large someone standing near the king and suddenly Prussia found himself locked in an amethyst gaze. "_Dobryi den'_, _Prussiya_," came the deceivingly innocent voice of Russia.

Gilbert stood frozen in place for a moment before his shock quickly turned to loathing. "What the hell are you doing here?" he growled.

The larger nation did not seem at all bothered by the failing kingdom's lack of respect. On the contrary, he almost seemed amused by the albino's fiery temper. "Ty takoj milij, kogda zlishsya!" Russia exclaimed, but Gilbert didn't know enough of the language to understand all of it. "I am here to make you an offer, _Prussiya_."

The kingdom snorted. "Why? You're little affair with France not all you dreamed it would be?" he mocked.

"No, not really," the empire admitted easily enough. The smile on his face, however, was enough to keep further inquiry at bay. "But I have come here to offer a plan that I believe may be to your liking."

Taken off guard, the more western nation eyed the other warily. Russia had already switched sides once, was he actually trying to be helpful, or had France sent him with some kind of message? "I'm not paying anymore _tribute _to that _arschloch_," Gilbert growled. "And I _refuse _to give up any more territory to that bastard!"

For some reason, after proclaiming this, the large nation giggled, sounding almost childlike. "Ti takoj tupoj," Russia laughed. "Surely you realize that the land taken from you has not gone to _Frantsiya_ but has gone to his little confederation, _da_? It is that little one that is eating away at your strength."

The words slapped Gilbert in the face, but he refused to show his hurt and anger to the others in the room. Of course he knew that while France had taken almost half of his land, it was Ludwig's small little countries that gained from it. It was a bitter fact. While he was glad that his little brother was becoming stronger, Prussia just wished that it didn't have to be at _his _expense. He wasn't angry with West though! It was France's fault actually. But hearing Russia's words did not help the unrest in Gilbert's mind.

"What is it that you want, Russia?" Gilbert cut in crossly. He did not want to play around with Russia at the moment. He knew the other nation liked mind games and was a real scary bastard when he wanted to be, but at the same time, the albino did not really believe that it was fair for him to be antagonized like this.

The great empire looked a bit disappoint that his game should come to an end, like a child getting their favorite toy taken away, but his pout swiftly turning into a grin once more, purple eyes flashing brightly. "I assume you've heard about France and Austria's treaty, _da_?"

"I've heard a little," Gilbert admitted, watching as his king quietly slipped out of the room with his attendants so that the nations could discuss business. Deep down, Prussia was a bit disgusted with his ruler at the moment, at how weak and pathetic he acted. If Old Fritz were still alive, he would have _never_ let the French have invaded Prussia, nor would he have signed those disgraceful terms two year before! Old Fritz would have thought of a way out of all this…

Russia also watched silently as the Prussian ruler exited the room, amethyst eyes like daggers in the king's back. But once the two nations were alone, the big nation seemed to perk up again and smiled at the hurting country before him. "Shall we go somewhere to sit?"

There was a part of Gilbert that wished that the other nation would just speak so they could get this over with, but the other half was interested. Russia was not a realm known for beating around the bush or drawing a subject out if he could help it. While the empire seemed to like mind games, such games were conducted in a quiet fashion without mixing words. So if this huge nation wanted to sit and chat for a bit, that meant that something really important was going on.

Like the ever polite host, Prussia led the other nation to the king's private office that was just to the side of the meeting hall. He knew the king wouldn't mind if he used it, and even if he did, Gilbert doubted Friedrich Wilhelm III had the spine to do anything about it. Not like Old Fritz…but what could be done? Fritz was gone and Prussia was duty bound to his ruler.

Once the two nations were situated comfortably within the office, the larger man did not waste a single moment. "Austria has once again lost to France. They have signed a treaty and now your former ally can no longer attack."

"That's all fine and well for you then, I suppose," Gilbert spat, trying to hold down his bitterness. It wasn't working so well. "But shouldn't you be rejoicing in your success? Now you and that Frog have finally gotten rid of almost everyone…except Britain. That crazy son of a bitch hates France too much to go down," he chuckled darkly.

Russia also seemed to find the thought of the old English/ French rivalry amusing as well, and giggled happily. "_Da_, Britain is still in the fight. However, by making his treaty with Austria, France has…ah, how shall I put this?"

As the other thought, Prussia suddenly understand what was going on, or at least in part. While Russia seemed the picture of calm, sitting there as though carefree, Gilbert realized that there was only really one reason why the other would come here. "France doesn't know you're here, does he?" he asked carefully.

Amethyst eyes snapped on to ruby and the two eastern states stared at each other for a long moment, both unwilling to look frail in the other's eyes, yet both knowing that the other had detected some amount of weakness.

"_Nyet_," Russia said slowly, as though testing the waters. "I have come here myself."

That was all Gilbert needed to confirm his suspicions. For the first time in two years, a cocky smile slipped onto the weak kingdom's thin lips as he looked over the other nation. Something akin to giddiness bubbled into the albino's chest as he realized that things might very well get better soon.

"So," he drawled. "Deal with France isn't as sweet as you thought it would be, right? Let me guess, you came here looking for allies in case that bastard tries anything against _you_?"

A very cold smile, as icy as the Siberian tundra, slipped onto Russia's lips and Gilbert was sure he could see anger radiating off of the eastern nation in great waves. Those violet eyes hardened and turned almost black as he stared at the other man across from him. It took all of Prussia's will not to move and to remain sitting there coolly while retaining his insufferable smirk.

"Let us just say that France's recent activates have given me reason to become…suspicious," the bigger country admitted slowly.

While it was a little surprising, Gilbert scolded himself for being as shocked as he was. France was on the warpath, so to speak, and he was rapidly conquering territory after territory. However, as fast as he was going about this, it was clear that the expanding empire was not exactly taking into account other people's feelings in the matter. While he had been able to control almost all of central Europe by crushing them, putting them under his control whether by force or wearing them down into signing a treaty, he was also making himself look more and more aggressive to the east. And when others, even allies, see you as growing too aggressive, they tended to panic, and when that happened…well, bad things followed.

For the time being, however, Prussia let the knowledge of the great alliance slowly starting to spilt apart fill his senses until he began to feel a bit of his old spark back, his old humor. While it was generally know that one _never _messes with Russia, Gilbert couldn't help it. In his newfound burst of arrogance, he began laughing; long and obnoxious. How long had it been since he'd last laughed?

Ignoring the angry pout across from him, the albino continued to laugh until he had to stop for air. Once he calmed a bit, he took several deep breathes before speaking. "Keseseses!" he snickered again once he saw just how annoyed Russia really was. "I'd apologize," he smirked wickedly at the immense nation, "but I just find all of this a bit ironic after what you did. You know, leave me and Austria in desperation to go join up with that Frog only to realize that he may be planning on coming after you next."

Russia was smiling, but it was forced, and his eyes were burning once more with fury as he stared at the other man. "I only did what was best for my people," the large Slavic said defensively. "And as I recall, when it was just Austria and I fighting, you refused to come and help us for a long while, _da_?"

All trace of amusement vanished from the kingdom's face. "I had my fights with France before!" his voice came out in a rough growl. "And then I went neutral because it was best for _my _people. At least I didn't stab anyone in the back!"

A pleased smile sprang onto the other's lips rather quickly, alerting Prussia that he wasn't going to enjoy what was said next. "I do not see it that way," Russia almost sang the words. "Austria and I were rather desperate at few points, but you refused to come and aid us."

"Yeah, well, at least I wasn't France's damned ally!" Gilbert cried, realizing that his own actions could have been seen as a bit of a betrayal. No wonder Roderich had been so angry with him…

"True," the empire stated calmly. There was a certain look in his eyes that Gilbert did not like. It was a look that told the little kingdom that the other was about to throw in a wildcard, was about to through the final blow in this game of word play. "But at least _my _actions didn't lead directly to the death of someone in my family."

And what a last punch it was. For just a moment Gilbert didn't move, didn't blink. He felt like some invisible hand had pushed all the air out of his lungs, leaving him lightheaded and a bit confused. It took about a full minute for Russia's words to finally make sense in Prussia's rattled brain.

"It wasn't _my _fault that he's gone." The albino hoped that his voice was steady. "Austria's boss is the one that dissolved him!"

Smiling like a child at Christmas, Russia seemed to radiate happiness as he looked over at the smaller man. "Ah, but that could have changed had you been more willing to help. Austria might not have had to do that had he had a little more support, _da_?"

Gilbert had never stopped to think that the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire could have been warped into being _his _fault. While he knew that his little brother really wasn't dead, it still hurt to be accused of killing him all the same. Despite all the fights they'd had, he still loved Gerwig and really had mourned for him when he'd thought the little boy had vanished from the world. But that wasn't the case. Gerwig was Ludwig, and at the moment Ludwig was gaining strength while still being held by France.

Seeing the slightly distressed look on the albino's face, the empire smiled sweeter. "Ah, you have very good…what do you call it? Good stoic face. But we are friends, _da_? No need to suppress what you feel when you are around me."

Coming out of his thoughts, Prussia scowled darkly at the other man. "You realize that you've pretty much ruined your chances as gaining me as an ally, right?" He'd wanted to add that the boy that had been the Holy Roman Empire was still alive, but didn't want the other to know that particular fact at the moment.

"No, you will be my ally when I call for you," the larger man nearly simmered with glee.

"You're so sure of yourself," Gilbert snorted. "But what makes you think I'll help you? You've done nothing for me except leave me helpless, beat me down, and then come to my home and insult me. So how, in your infallible line of logic, does that assure you that I'll help?"

Amethyst eyes sparkled with delight as he looked over the smaller man. "Ah, but while you are angry with me now, you will come when I call because you hate France more, _da_?"

"That's no—" the kingdom began, but stopped when he realized he could not actually refute that statement. He closed his mouth with an irritated snap.

The empire simply laughed. "You are very funny, _moy droog_. Ah, but it is getting late and I must go." The Russian stood, looming over the kingdom threateningly. "Look for me when I call for you. Do Svidaniya, droog moy," he waved happily before he let himself out, without giving his host any time to stop him.

Sitting in a bit of a stupor, Gilbert couldn't decide if he should be glad by his visit or angry. Standing up after a few minutes of trying to sort through his feelings on the matter and then deciding to give up, the albino decided that he should not waste any time. Russia was right, after all, and Prussia was going to be ready when the time came. Walking down the hall he had to stop himself from skipping, because although the other nation had upset him, the thought of destroying France was just something that gave him such joy.

He went to his own office and pulled out several maps and old war plans that he'd thought up several years ago. The light came back into Gilbert's eyes as he began plotting out his attacks for when the time came, his love of the fight and the blood to come beginning to revive his past exuberance. He could not _wait _to begin his own attacks on the French bastard.

As he worked, Gilbert couldn't look at the maps without looking at the old Holy Roman Empire, which was currently the Confederation of the Rhine. He began wondering how his little brother was doing. As hard as it was to believe, it had been three years since he'd last seen the boy. He wondered if the child had grown, if he remembered any of his French or if he'd have to relearn it. How was the boy getting on with France? But the question that weighed heaviest on the older brother's mind: was his brother angry with him? After all, Gilbert hadn't even begun to make good on his promise to come and rescue the boy.

Looking out his window, the German kingdom wished he could have sent his brother a letter, a note, _something _to let the boy know that he still cared about him, still loved him. But that was impossible. No French soldier here would offer to deliver the boy a message, and so, Prussia would have to wonder a little longer until Russia called on him so they could kick the Frog's ass!

A light tapping on the window caught Gilbert's attention. Glancing down, he noticed his little yellow bird sitting on the windowsill. Smiling brightly, he opened the window a bit and the little creature hopped in before flying to nest in his hair.

"I was wondering where you'd gone off to today," he laughed stroking its soft feathers with one finger. It chirped merrily. "Come help me make plans to destroy France. Because the sooner we get rid of him, the sooner we get little Ludwig back!" he sang right back.

So, with that happy thought and his little friend with him, Prussia set to work, determined to get his brother and his honor back as quick as possible.

**oOoOoOo**

Ludwig tried to breathe deeply and push down the frustration he felt. He knew that it was only hell for so long, but he could not help but feel like this was the worst kind of torture. All he could do was endure it as best as he could, however.

"_Au clair de la lune_, _Mon ami Pierrot_," the boy started yet _another _folk song, wincing as the others in the room laughed and clapped their hands in delight. While he knew they were probably being sincere in their delight, the child couldn't help the blush of humiliation that dusted his cheeks. He felt like some sort of animal that was kept only to entertain.

He was could not help the mortification he felt that as he watched the Lady Joséphine and France giggle to one another like love sick farm girls. As he sang, his mind wandered a bit and he wondered how Napoleon was able to put up with the two idiotic people sitting before him. They really were a ridiculous pair, clapping their hands and laughing like there was something amusing about listening to someone sing.

The only pleasure Ludwig could derive from the situation was the fact that Ida was standing near the door, a sweet smile on her face, eyes bright as she also listened to him sing. Seeing her happiness was well worth tolerating the others in the room. The little nation blushed for a different reason.

"_Merveilleux_!" Joséphine clapped her hands, once he finished. "_Magnifique_, _mon petit_."

"Ah, he has the voice of an angel, _non_?" France agreed willingly. He winked at Ludwig, who could only scowl as another blush heated his face. He didn't like being the center of attention and he _certainly _did not like performing for everyone that seemed to mock him.

At that moment, before the lady had decided on another song, Napoleon himself came into the room. It still surprised the boy how small the great Emperor of France really was. From the way everyone acted, Ludwig had been so sure that he'd be meeting a giant. But oh well. Perhaps it would be easier to defeat him then.

"I do apologize for the interruption, _ma cherie'_, but I am afraid I must steal our France from you at this time," the emperor smiled lovingly at his wife.

"Of course, _mon amour_," she smiled back gentle. "Our little concert is finished for the day anyway."

Napoleon nodded then kissed his wife's hand before leading France out of the room to talk about Ludwig didn't know what. Once they were gone, Joséphine turned to look at Ida for the first time since she'd brought Ludwig into the music room. "Take the little one back to his chambers," she ordered. "I am tired. I shall retire."

"_Oui, madame_," Ida curtseyed.

The empress didn't even seem to notice as she stood and walked over to where Ludwig stood by the pianoforte. "You sing beautifully, _mon petit_," she declared once more. "I expect you to sing for me tomorrow evening as well, _oui_?"

The child found himself nodding, even though he didn't really want to. He was still scared about what France would do to Ida should he cause any problems. After all, Ludwig was finding it harder and harder to keep his thoughts to himself lately. The last thing he needed was to get Ida, or any of the other servants, in trouble because he wanted to be lippy.

But the lady did not know his own inner conflict and smiled down at him again before patting his head. Again, Ludwig felt like some sort of pet. While he was treated well enough here, he still could not help the feeling of being caged.

Once everyone was gone, Ida came over to him and held out her hand. Ludwig took it obediently and together the two of them walked back to his chamber. While he hated being here in France, the boy could not help but to be grateful that he'd met Ida. She was the only thing that made living there bearable. She was the one that he could talk to when he was lonely, who held him when he had nightmares, the one that even helped him get dressed in the confusing French clothing at times. She was everything good and sweet in Ludwig's eyes. She was the model of perfection.

Of course he could never tell her that though! He could hardly compliment her for crying out loud. One day she had looked particularly good— she claimed it was due to her new apron— and Ludwig had mustered enough courage to tell her that she was very pretty. It had been excruciating to admit for some reason, but his torment was rewarded with a kiss on the check for being "her sweet _Schätzchen_". While he'd been so pleased that he'd nearly burst, he also blushed so hard that he thought he'd given himself a ulcer and she'd giggled at him…It had been a very pleasant giggle actually, so musical and wonderful, and while the boy did not mind if _she _laughed at him, he'd hated it when the other servants had laughed at how red he was.

Opening the door to room to the chamber, the boy began to walk in when Ida picked him up and playfully threw him on his bed. Instantly realizing the game, Ludwig smiled widely with a cry of "No fair!"

Laughing, Ida jumped on the bed next to her little charge and began tickling him. The boy shrieked with laughter. "Ah, but this is war, _kleiner_, and as such, I am obliged to make sneak attacks!"

The child kicked and thrashed around wildly, trying to get away from the fiendish fingers of frivolity, but he just couldn't quite get out of Ida's reach. "I can't breathe!" he shrieked, trying his best to slap away her hands between laughing.

"Surrender to me then!" she demanded, trying her best to impersonate Napoleon. Her accent was atrocious, but Ludwig still appreciated the effort she'd put into it.

"Never!" he cried, and was able to roll away from her…and right off the bed.

"Oh my!" she cried, becoming worried when the child fell off. "Are you all right?" she asked, leaning over the bed.

But that was her own undoing. Taking her by surprise, Ludwig began his own retaliation and popped up to catch her unguarded. He began a vicious revenge campaign that started with attacking her armpits.

Realizing her mistake too late, Ida tried to pull back, but it was no use. The boy had anticipated her movements and adjusted accordingly. He jumped back up on the bed and was soon on top of Ida, doing his best to continue his assault even as she began to strike back and tickle him again.

Soon, they where both shouting and laughing, each trying to gain the upper hand, though it was clear that neither one could quite get it. In pursuit of gaining the advantage, they each soon acquired the dangerous weapons in the large, fluffy pillows that had once neatly sat at the head of the bed. Neither one showed much mercy when it came to hitting each other with their soft, feather down armaments, although Ludwig suspected Ida of not using her full strength against him. She was very kind hearted, after all.

The war went on for nearly half an hour before both sides had come to an impasse. Mutually, they both flopped down on the bed and tried to catch their breath even while they still giggled about nothing. Feathers flew through the air and floated down gracefully, one landing right on Ludwig's nose.

Ida laughed and blew the offending object away. "You've got feathers in your hair," she chuckled.

"So do you!" the boy cried indignantly, but laughed all the same.

They shared another round of giggling together before Ida sat up and opened her arms out to the child. Happily, Ludwig crawled into the embrace and was content to just sit there. While he was very happy when he was with Ida, the boy still longed for his big brother. He knew he'd only gotten to know Gilbert for a few months, but when he was with the other nation he just felt…complete, like he was safe and he always would be.

"This was really fun," he commented after a few moments of Ida picking feathers out of his hair.

He could feel Ida's body shake gently as she laughed lightly. "_Ja_, it was. I haven't had a full scale battle like that since…oh, a long time ago now." She snickered. "My brother and I used to have battles similar to this when I was young…only, we did not have nice pillows such as these."

"What did you use then?" Ludwig looked up, eyes round with question.

"Oh, we usually declared battle when my family was butchering." Ida smiled kindly, her eyes taking on a far away, almost dreamy look. "I was in charge of stirring the blood pudding and my brother was in charge of gutting the chickens while the adults did the bigger animals. When they were not looking, Hans would start throwing the guts at me and I would have to ward them off with my spoon," she laughed. "Pretty soon, once I'd gotten a hold of some of his weaponry, we'd be throwing the intestines at each other, using the barn or even the cows as shelter…But we'd never get too far in the game. _Vati _would come and yell at us about wasting everything and not doing our work. He was very fond of the chicken liver, you see."

Ludwig tried to imagine the story, and he could just picture a little boy and girl throwing guts at each other. While it was amusing to listen to, he was not so sure if he'd like to have chicken intestines in his hair; he'd much rather have feathers. And while it did seem like a waste, he couldn't help think it sounded a little fun all the same. If Ida liked it, then it couldn't be all that bad.

"Did you get in much trouble?" he asked, becoming suddenly concerned as he could also picture an angry farmer.

Ida snickered. "Oh, _Vati _always gave us quite a scare and used his belt to hit us on the bottoms once, but it was nothing terrible. I think deep down he thought it was just as fun as Hans and I did." She was smiling very peacefully, but she also seemed a little sad. "I do miss them though…" she trailed off.

That was something Ludwig could understand. He knew what it was like to miss a brother. He dreamed about the Christmas when he'd been taken away from Gilbert and Roderich still, and it still made him as sad as it had the day it happened. But trying to comfort himself, he always tried to think of things that he could do when he was reunited with his family.

"Do you think Gilbert would have pretend battles like this with me?" he asked quietly. He had a feeling that his brother would be all too willing to have a pillow fight with him…in fact, Gilbert seemed like the type that would enjoy a gut fight as well.

Ida frowned at this, however. "Who is Gilbert, _kleiner_?"

Ludwig stared at the girl like she'd just down a horn in the middle of her forehead. "Gilbert's my big brother." How could she _not _know who Gilbert was?

Hearing this news, the maid seemed to pale slightly. "B-big brother?"

"_Ja_. You know, my big brother _Preußen_." He was still trying to fathom why Ida would not know who Gilbert was until he realized something very important. "Oh! You have never met him have you?" he asked, but did not wait for her answer. "_Preußen _is my big brother and he's name's Gilbert Beilschmidt. So when you meet him one day, you can just call him Gilbert, because I'm sure he'll let you and he won't mind."

Cornflower blue eyes seemed to darken ever so slightly, and all traces of amusement fled the girl's face. She turned the child around so that he could face her properly. "_Schätzchen_," she began gently, like a mother trying to explain something very important. "You should not have told me _Preußen's _name."

The boy cocked his head to the side. "But why?"

"Well…" Ida paused, chewing on her bottom lip. "No one—no _human_—has ever known the name of their nation. It is said that should a king or emperor know the name they have more power over their countries and that is not a very good thing."

"But why?" Ludwig asked again, frowning.

"Nations should be bound to their people, not necessarily to the monarch," she said gently. "If a leader is corrupt and the people suffering, it is the nation's duty to serve his people and help them even if it means going against their rulers. If a ruler knows the identity of the nation…well, it would become harder for that country to go against that sovereign, don't you think?"

The child thought about it for a moment. He was not really sure if he even _had _a particular ruler— he did not really count Napoleon— but he supposed it would be hard to do what was right if a corrupted ruler call out to you like a friend, using your personal name and all. "I suppose," he admitted. "But Gil—I mean, my brother— said that I could tell people that I trusted my name if I wanted and I trust you. I know you'll not tell anyone." He gave her a shy smile even as he blushed once more.

Tears sprung up in Ida's eyes as she looked down into the boy's icy blue eyes. She smiled down at him lovingly before pulling him closer to her for a gentle hug. "I will not tell anyone," she vowed. "And I appreciate your trust in me. I will not let you down."

Not quite understanding why his friend had tears, Ludwig decided that perhaps he should try to comfort her, so he hugged her back as best as he could, wrapping his arms around her middle as far as they could go. "I know." His tone was factual, leaving no room to doubt that the girl's serenity.

"You are so very good," Ida stroked the child's hair affectionately, planting a kiss on the soft tresses. "But I think it perhaps best that we clean up now."

They pulled apart and looked over the feather filled room that they had created. It looked like a goose had blown up in the middle of the room, but Ludwig did not mind much. It had been fun to create the mess and he liked to clean, so he was not at all upset with the work that lay ahead of him. Besides, that meant Ida would stay longer because she _always _helped him.

As the two cleaned, Ida decided that a story was needed to pass the time. She told the tale of _Little Red-Cap_ as they went about picking up their carnage of their battle. Ludwig particularly liked the part where the hunter got the wolf that had tried to trick poor little Red-Cap, and skinned the nasty creature. He also enjoyed Ida's attempts to give each character a different voice. Again, they were not nearly as good as Gilbert could have done it, but the boy enjoyed them all the same. Besides, listening to the girl make the growling wolf voice was just ridiculous and he enjoyed sniggering at her.

Soon enough the feathers were all cleared away and Ludwig was the possessor of two new pillows. As he changed for bed, Ida went and got him a glass of water, just like she did every night. He never asked for water, but he always appreciated her thoughtfulness, especially when he did wake and need something to drink. And once he was dressed for bed, she tucked him in and told him the story of _Hans the Hedgehog. _

When she was finished, Ludwig felt his eyelids grow very heavy, and he fought to keep himself awake so he could see Ida out.

"_Gute Nacht, Schätzchen,_" she whispered.

"Ludwig."

The girl paused. "What?"

Still fighting off the affects of fatigue, the boy yawned, quickly losing ground in his wrestle against exhaustion. It had been a very long day, after all. "My name is Ludwig," he smiled sleepily up at his caretaker.

Once again, there were tears in those lovely cornflower blue eyes. Ida leaned forward and placed a loving kiss on the child's forehead. "_Gute Nach… _Ludwig."

At last, unable to hold sleep off any longer, the boy yawned once more and mumbled his good night wishes as well. As he drifted off into dream, he felt very peaceful, very whole. Hearing Ida say his name just felt right. It made him feel complete.

That night Ludwig did not suffer from his nightmares, but instead dreamt of the day when he, Ida, and Gilbert could all live together and be a happy family, where they could tell him stories and have pillow fights.

* * *

**Author's Note: **…Okay, so I feel like I should explain the guts fight bit…this is based on true events in my family. It happened one summer when I was little and my family still did our own butchering. My sister and I got into a bit of a snit about something or other and when no one was looking we began a gut fight…I guess in a way I'm sortta Ida there for a minute...That was really a fun fight even though we got in trouble for it. :P Oh childhood memories…

ANYWHO, about the whole names system here: in this world, I've made nations telling their personal names to their bosses like a taboo. It's just something they don't do. I mean, could you imagine if there were really "Beilschmidts" or "Braginskys" out there? They'd get this HUGE ego or something like that. Not to mention the bosses on it too.

And yes, Ludwig believes at the moment that Gilbert and Ida will come together eventually and act as his mother and father. I mean, what little kid wouldn't want something like that? He loves them both very much, and I find the concept endearing. ^^

**History: **In 1809 Austria reenters the war against Napoleon alone and is defeated soundly at Wagram. Napoleon then binds Austria to him more by marrying the archduchess Marie Louise. And the treaty Austria was forced to sign removed Western Galicia and annexed it to the Duchy of Warsaw. This troubled Russia and they began fearing that Napoleon would soon launch an invasion from that point. This builds up the tensions that ultimately cause the Patriotic War of 1812, or more commonly remembered as Napoleon's invasion.

Also, just as a side note, King Friedrich Wilhelm III wasn't the best king of Prussia ever. The beginning to the war with Napoleon he was kind of a push over and indecisive. I figured Gilbert wouldn't really like a weak king, but he's still very loyal.

**Stories & Songs: **The stories that Ida tells are stories that were collected by the Grimm brothers. _Little Red-Cap _is the original title of—you guessed it—_Little Red Riding Hood._ (I think it's funny that Ludwig would like the part where the woodsmen skins the wolf XD )

The song Ludwig was singing in case you didn't really get it was _Au clair de la lune_, a rather famous French folk song. It was written in the 18th century I believe.

**Russian: **_Dobryi den'_, _Prussiya- _Добрый день Пруссия- Good day, Prussia. Ty takoj milij, kogda zlishsya- ты такой милый, когда злишься- You are so cute when you are angry! (…because Russia's still creepy in the 1800s XD ). Frantsiya- Франция- France. Ti takoj tupoj- Ты такой тупой- You are so stupid! Do Svidaniya, droog moy-До свидания друг мой- Goodbye my  
friend!

*** Seriously couldn't have done the Russia without DoktorZeirmit! Thanks again for all your help!***

**French: **_Au clair de la lune_ - By the light of the moon. _Merveilleux-_ marvelous. _Magnifique-_ Magnificent. (You should know the rest…*too lazy to translate*)

**German: **(You really should know all of them…) _Schätzchen- _little treasure.

Okay…if you hated anything about this, let me know, or if you liked it drop me a review please. I appreciate it! **Next Up: **France gets his butt handed to him. =^.^=

Merry Christmas everyone! Froehliche Weihnachten! Joyeux Noel!Cчастливого Рождества!


	13. Chapter 12: Part 1: Noble Intentions

**Chapter Twelve: **

**Part One: Noble Intentions**

**1812**

It had all started out as such a simple plan, one that Francis had been excited to try. But now, as he sat in the snow unable to feel his toes or his fingers, he was having second thoughts. It was the first time in a long time that he tasted the bitterness of losing a battle.

"W-we shall all d-die here," he heard one man saying, who's teeth were chattering.

"_Oui_. We shall all b-be buried in the s-snow," another agreed as he shivered intensely.

Francis wished he could give some consoling words to his suffering troops, but he could not think of any comfort to give. He was just as miserable and nearly as hopeless as all of his men. Stupid Russia for starting all of this fighting! France cursed him profoundly in his mind. That damned eastern empire had made an alliance with him, how could he so easily move against him like that? It wasn't fair!

"We shall not make it home this time," one young man mumbled sadly.

"Do not say such things, Henri!" an older man scolded.

"But we s-shall not," Henri shook his head sadly. "We should not have left Moscow so easily."

"Had we stayed the Russians would have come back and killed us all!" a rather old man with graying hair exclaimed. "What we should have done was not try and negotiating a settlement. Those damn Russians can smell weakness one hundred miles away! We should have camped outside of Moscow and called for reinforcements."

"We _did _call for reinforcements," another middle-aged man snapped. "There were none to be had! Had we stayed anywhere near Moscow, those bloodthirsty Russians would have come and destroyed us completely. We are doing all that we can in this particular situation."

"God must have turned his face from us," Henri looked utterly defeated. "I am not sure why He has unleashed these _devils _on us!"

At this point, Francis decided that he could no longer listen to any of this talk without becoming depressed. He was _France _after all, he could not afford to let himself slip down into despair or all really would be lost. Although he couldn't help but wince at the thoughts of the Russian villages that they'd encountered that morning. True to description, the commoners had been nearly as bad as the soldiers that they had fought, scream abuse at them, in a few instances actually attacking some of the French soldiers, and the blonde nation even suspected the people of destroying some of the bridges or making barricades to delay them in the beginning of the Russian winter.

Standing up, Francis left the little campfire and went to find Napoleon. There _had _to be something else they could do! Something, anything to relieve the suffering of their men. Oh why hadn't they pulled out in September? Why had it been October?

But as he went to find the emperor in his tent, something in the distance caught France's eye. It was dark out, the night had fully fallen, but the freezing empire was sure he saw the shape of a large…something standing not too far from the last camp. _Oh perfect_, he thought sarcastically. _What is it now? A bear? _

Even though he was freezing, the nation could not help his curiosity and grabbed a lantern and began walking towards the object to investigate. Perhaps it was nothing but some sort of tree that Francis hadn't noticed earlier? Maybe it someone's horse had pulled off of its hitch and had begun to wander off— although that was ridiculous as no horse would be stupid enough to leave the fires or the windbreak of the tents. But he could still hope, couldn't he?

As he advanced, the winter wind seemed to begin a terrible assault upon him, icy air slicing his bare face mercilessly. It got so strong and so unbearable that Francis stopped and held up his arm in a vain attempt to shield himself. "Who's out there?" he cried out.

The wind suddenly screamed in his ears, a terrible moaning sound followed, and France could have sworn that it was saying something. He was so frightened that he began running as best as he could in the snow back to the safety that the camp offered. Once he was near the fires again, he turned to see the looming figure walk off lazily into the freezing night with the wind dancing around it, leaving France feeling suddenly very afraid; very cold inside.

The following night, at about the same time, Francis could not stop himself from looking out behind him in the distance. They had all had another hard day of retreat with several villagers harassing them, but it had not been as bad as it normally was. He contented himself with eating some hot…whatever this was— he really had no idea what it was considering their food supply was nearly out— and feeling the heat of the fire against his hands. The fire itself was nothing large and it was barely enough to keep anyone warm in the cold, winter storm, but he was honestly trying to make the best of his situation.

When the men began another round of woeful conversation, France stood and decided that he would retire for the evening. As the French Empire he was privileged to have his own tent, but as he went, he noticed that once again, in the distance, something stood. He had paid close attentions to his surroundings that night and knew that whatever it was out there was _not _just some tree.

A nasty gush of wind suddenly blew against him, slamming into his face full force as though trying to push him out. He gasped. It was so cold that he thought his heart would stop.

But it was in that moment that revelation came to him. In the distance, coming from the figure that stood so lonely out in the storm, as though completely unbothered by the fridge night, came the low rumblings of a chilling laugh he knew all too well. "Kolkolkolkolkolkol!"

Hearing that sinister laugh, France looked up quickly, squinting his eyes to try and make out the man he knew was out there. "Russia!" Francis yelled, furious and embarrassed. "You lunatic! If you wanted to fight me, why don't you just come here and do it already!"

It was a bluff, of course. The blonde was hoping the Slavic would take the bait and come into the camp so that he and the men could beat down the eastern empire and perhaps gain some sort of leverage. He tried to stand up straight and proud, show the other man that he was not afraid, but Russia did not move, simply stood there laughing, completely unaffected by the snowstorm that raged so pitilessly.

For several minutes that was all that happened. The dark laughter, unyielding as the storm, began to unnerve Francis considerably. He felt as though the other were mocking him, and perhaps he was, but France could not quite remember a time when he'd felt so mortified. What made it worse was when the other, just as the night before, turned and began walking away in the night.

Angry, embarrassed, Francis found himself walking out to the other nation. "Russia!" he screamed over the howling wind. "Come back here you coward and face me!"

Russia had completely disappeared by now and his laughter faded until it could be heard no more, proving that he had not been scared of France at all, that France wasn't even worth his notice. Suddenly, a great gust of wind came screaming at him once more, only this time, Francis could have sworn he saw an old man, bloodied and battle worn, charging towards him, the face terribly withered like a corpse. "Get out!" a voice groaned like an old, rusted iron bell came from its throat.

France screamed again and felt to his knees, trying his best to avoid a collision with the outraged spirit that had come to haunt him. "Get out!" he heard the voice near his ear, even as his whole body when numb from the cold.

Petrified, the terrified nation sat still in the snow, shivering and sniveling, hiding his face in his hands. When he gathered the courage—he didn't know how long he sat there— to look up once more, Francis found himself alone again and slowly freezing to death. Standing on trembling legs, France shuffled back to his tent with a broken spirit and a horrific experience.

It had been his first real encounter with General Winter, but it was not the last. Over the course of their retreat, the General claimed the lives of more than a hundred thousand.

**oOoOoOo**

Gilbert ran as fast as his legs to carry him across the foyer of the palace. He skidded several inched when trying to stop at the door to the king's meeting hall and ended up having to run back over towards the door when he'd passed it up. Without waiting for the servants to open the large doors, and without any decorum whatsoever, the nation threw open the door creating a satisfying _boom_, before calling out, "Bonaparte's been defeated in Russia!"

All talk within the room came to a halt as every man sat or stood staring blankly at their country. Seeing their surprised faces, Gilbert couldn't help but break into a grin, smiling almost evilly as he once again let the news of the French defeat wash over him. Oh, the brutality of the situation was delicious!

The king, on the other hand, looked as though he did not quite understand what he'd just heard. "_Was_?" he asked instead, blinking at his kingdom.

"Keseseseseses!" Prussia couldn't help but snicker at the surprised faces around him. "Just what I said," he grinned arrogantly. "Seems that old bastard Napoleon, in his fight against Tsar Alexander, was finally defeated."

"Prussia, come here and tell me what you know," the king ordered. It was one of the few times that Gilbert actually felt like his boss actually had a spine, and so he complied willingly at the show of power.

Strutting over to his king, the nation pushed one of the advisors out of his chair and sat in it so that he could be before his king. "Well," Gilbert began, the cruel smile on his lips never left, "it seems that with the help of our _awesome _soldiers, the Russians were able to cut down enough of the French army that it made Bonaparte scared and he called for a meeting to 'negotiate' with Tsar Alexander."

"That was a very foolish move," a man—Gilbert didn't know his name, but didn't care because he didn't look nearly important enough to have the Almighty Prussia's notice— spoke up, stroking his mustache thoughtfully.

"_Ja_, and once no reinforcements came, the French fled!" Gilbert laughed outright, enjoying the tale of his foe's misery. "You remember all the roam we'd heard? And it was all true! But their retreat wasn't even the best part! What really did those Froggy bastards in was General Winter himself!"

While the humans didn't really _know _General Winter, Gilbert knew they knew enough to know that he was basically telling them about the weather. He was pleased to see several other people in the room smiling just as darkly as he was. Truthfully, it was just about the funniest thing the nation had heard in quite some time.

"So what of the army?" the king asked, his eyes pleasantly alight with questions. "From what I'd heard, he had taken a considerable army with him."

"Best numbers I could get was that Napoleon left with around 600,000 troops." Here, the albino began snickering again. He relished the fact that everyone was on the edge of their seat waiting to hear the rest of his report. "But the way I heard it was that he came limping into Paris with only 112,000 men!"

The room erupted with whispers and quiet exclamations of surprise. Of course everyone had been hearing roamers for months now, the Russians had been unable to send them any clear details about the war. The last they'd heard was about the Burning of Moscow when Napoleon had entered the city, and that had been in the fall. Now, however, in the bleak months of December, happy news had reached the awaiting Prussians at last.

"So?" Gilbert asked impatiently when no one spoke up for a moment. "What are we going to do?" he asked, looking to his king.

Friedrich Wilhelm III stared at his country for a moment, unable to ignore the anxious look in the albino's eyes. "This is very great news," the man said slowly. "But what do you think should be done?"

It took all of Gilbert's will not to slap his forehead with his hand. Why did his king have to be so uncertain? "Isn't it obvious?" he demanded, red eyes blazing with passion. "France is weak now, and we've been sitting idle for too long. Declare war with France!"

"We are technically still under France's occupation," one rather obscenely large man huffed in the back.

"Who the hell cares?" the kingdom snapped, glaring daggers at the offender who he also did not know the name of. "We should jump on this opportunity and help Russia now that France is on the defensive."

"But we already sent troops to Russia," another man pointed out.

"_Ja_ that's true, but think of all we could do if _I _went to war?" Gilbert ignored everyone else in the room and stared intently at his king. The king was really the only one that mattered at the moment, the one who could make the decision. "If Prussia went to war, think of the glory we could attain once _we _win? Think of all we could gain, _mein Herr_! If we entered, I'm _certain _that Russia and I could sweep through Paris within a year. I can promise you that!"

The king sat still, studying his country. The human knew his countries reputation, his infamous love of battle. Prussia had once been a very great state, stretching his reach and influence over central Europe. The war with Napoleon had left the proud German nation crippled and humiliated and the personification of the country was not the only one out for revenge. The people wanted to put an end to the nightmare that was the French Empire.

"We shall," the king began, watching as everyone gave him their undivided attention, "make plans," he finished. But before Gilbert could voice his obvious dissatisfaction, Friedrich went on. "And once we have made the proper preparations, we shall…declare a formal declaration of war."

The room erupted once more, only this time with loud shouts and speeches, both supporting or condemning the kings decision, but Gilbert didn't hear anymore. He stared at his king, eyes shining with pleasure and trust. It seemed Friedrich Wilhelm III had a spine after all, and Prussia, in that moment, found himself having a whole new respect for his king.

Under the next few months, Prussia made ready to enter the fight, and brought out Gebhard von Blücher from retirement and placed him in high command over the military. With the old veteran by his side, Prussia declared war in March of 1813, just knowing that he'd soon be sweeping the French through the streets of Paris.

**oOoOoOo**

**1813**

Ever since France had come back from Russia, Ludwig noticed that the flamboyant nation did not act the same. He seemed more worried, seemed to forget that his little Confederation still lived with him half the time, and seemed nervous, especially when it snowed. At first the boy thought it was because of the significant numbers of French and Germans that had been lost in the war— Ludwig felt bad a lot recently too, feeling the deaths of so many men—but that wasn't what seemed to be on the other man's mind half the time.

There were times when Ludwig would see France pacing about, lost in thought, as though unaware that anyone was watching him. At times the boy wondered if something terrible was going to happen. Was Russia marching to France? He had heard stories of how the Russians had set fire to their own city to keep the French from attaining any resources, and a shiver ran down the child's spine at the thought of just what the eastern empire would do to a city not his own. But enlightenment came to the little blonde one day when a messenger came into the palace. He, France, Napoleon and his newest wife Marie Louise were sitting to lunch when the courier gave the message to the emperor.

Ludwig watched carefully as Napoleon opened the communiqué and read it silently. The man's face drained of any color, leaving him white as a sheet. He passed the sheet over to France without a word, and so the boy watched as the other nation had a similar reaction to that of his leader. The two were still for a moment before France looked like he was about ready to burst into tears.

"And I suppose Austria won't be too far behind?" the empire spat, bitterness leaking from his voice.

Hearing the name of her former home, Marie Louise seemed to perk up a bit. "What is it, dear?" she asked calmly.

The Emperor turned and looked at his wife, a furious look on his face before he stood and stormed out of the room. France was only a second behind, leaving the woman and the small boy alone in surprise. Ludwig was now more curious than ever. He surmised that it had to be some bad news about the war, but what it was all actually about he couldn't guess. So, driven by the need to know, he hopped out of his seat. _"Excusez-moi_," he nodded towards the Empress. After all, he liked Napoleon's newest wife much better than the other…not that her being Austrian had anything to do with it…

The little boy had to run to catch up with the others, but hung back just far enough so that they would not see him. While he was part of the coalition and sent troops into France's army, the older nation seemed to always like to keep the Confederation in the dark about the happenings of the war. Ludwig had asked him once about it, and France's only answer was that children should not know the happenings of war. While it sounded noble, the little boy had shot back that as a nation he should be aware of the goings on of his people, especially when they were in war, but his protests were ignored.

But wanting to know what was going on this time, Ludwig stayed a little behind the other two, and made sure that he was not heard as he trotted after them. He did not want to be discovered and then sent away like he almost always was. He had a right to know!

The two Frenchmen entered into Napoleon's office and flicked the door shut. Fortunately for the little German, the door didn't close all the way and he was able to peek inside and listen to what was being said clearly.

"What am I going to do?" France cried the moment he believed he was alone with his boss. "I could handle Britain, but now I'm forced to fight with _three _opponents! I barely survived Russia! And now that they're all in league with each other, Austria will be sure to enter into the war as well!" the nation sobbed. "I don't think I can handle four of them!"

The Emperor was red in the face, as he paced back and forth through his study, but the moment France broke down, the short man strode across the room and slapped the nearly hysterical nation harshly across the face. "Control yourself!" Napoleon barked.

Ludwig jumped in surprise while France cried out in astonished pain. But to his credit, Francis did not say another word. He stood staring at his leader with wide, teary eyes, and even from where Ludwig stood, he could see the betrayal flicker in them for a moment.

"You have not lost!" Bonaparte snarled. "And they've not even launched an attack against us yet. Beside, do you forget? I married Marie Louise to solidify Austria's neutrality for the rest of this war."

The empire glared down at the shorter man, looking like he wanted to slap the emperor right back. "Ah, but have _you _forgotten German stubbornness? Seeing the others taking their stance, Austria will not be long after in declaring war as well. Forget not, that they _hate _us. The fact that you married one of their own will mean very little to them."

Napoleon growled at this, but did not raise a hand to the empire again. "I believe that you're overreacting," he said instead. "There is no guarantee that Austria will enter the war."

"Ah, but there is still the fact that I am one to three at the moment," Francis scowled right back.

"Do you forget about the Confederation of the Rhine?" the Emperor frowned. "We still have the Germans on our side."

"We have _some _Germans on our side," France corrected. "But how long do you think they will stay with us, hm? Once they see their cousins and brothers take up arms against us, they might very well forget all about the alliance and rise up against me!"

"They joined us against their brothers!" Napoleon cried, obviously not liking the talk of the Germans betraying him.

"That was only when we were at our most powerful and we had something to offer!" the empire cried. "We are running out of options and their faith in us has weakened considerably since the defeat in Russia. Germans are not a people to trust so blindly."

"I have heard no word from any of the kings or dukes from the Rhine, nor have I heard any word of any plots to go against us," Napoleon snorted. "You are over reacting to this situation. You have no proof that the Germans will betray us."

"Betray? _Non_, perhaps not." France shook his head. "But they will probably not do much to stop the fall of our empire."

"And why do you say this?" Bonaparte demanded.

"Because of that little hell-spawn that lives here!" At last, it seemed France could no longer take it. "That little demon that lives here with us, always so proud and defiant! I still have nightmares about him coming in and slitting my throat at night! He's too damn smart for his own good, and I'm sure that if he ever got the notion to completely unify himself, he would be one of the strongest nations in all of Europe! _That_'s why I'm concerned!"

The great Emperor looked up at his nation blankly for several minutes before he sneered. "You're getting yourself worked up because you're afraid that the Confederation will unify to become a proper country? That's ridiculous!"

"Is it?" Francis demanded. "I've heard many roamers on the mater. The German states aren't quite so hostile to one another like they used to be. What if the others promise them unification and recognition?"

Again, Napoleon snorted. "Do not listen to such foolish talk. Besides, everyone is too power-hungry to ever let something like that happen. You should calm yourself, France, and just concern yourself with the present."

"And my present situation is much better?" the taller man growled. "I am forced to watch as the whole of Europe is rising up against me."

"This is all of little consequence," the emperor growled. "While it is true that you will need to prepare yourself for some…unpleasantness, we will come out victorious. We always have."

"Except in Russia," Francis snorted back.

The great French leader sighed. "Forget your fears for a time, France. All will be well. We still have the Germans at our disposal, and what does it matter about our enemies? They've all of them been against us before and we've still triumphed, have we not? Fear not, _mon ami,_ we cannot fail! God has blessed us."

Turning away from his distressed nation, Napoleon then left to gather up his advisors to see what they made of this new predicament. Ludwig, who had remained silent at the other door, held his breath while trying to calm his racing heart. France, on the other hand, didn't even seem to _want _to calm down. Instead, he slammed his fists down on the desk and began pacing rapidly back and forth, looking suspiciously like a caged animal.

When the tall blonde turned next, he froze. The boy had pushed open the door and stood just inside, looking up at the frightened nation. Although young, Ludwig had a keenly developed since of vengeance, and a feral smile spread across his lips, his blue eyes looking like chips of ice. France jumped backwards upon seeing the child with such cruel delight on his face.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" France demanded. The child noticed that the older man was trembling slightly, and his smile turned darker. He had no idea that he looked the spitting image of the blood-thirsty Prussian personification and that he seemed to embody France's fears.

Still smiling, sending waves of foreboding dread throughout the empire's being, Ludwig simply looked up at the man, eyes bright and shining with vindictive humor. "_Bruder's _going to get you," he nearly sang, his childish voice piercing France in the heart.

All color drained from Francis's face, leaving him looking whiter than snow. Wild fear danced around in the cerulean eyes even as the child stared up at him with his cold, pitiless gaze. "Sh-shut up!" France cried. "Shut up and get out of my sight! Y-you don't know what you're talking about!"

The yelling only cheered Ludwig as he knew that he'd hit a nerve with the other man. He was not at all dissuaded by France's temper at the moment. Still grinning like the devil himself, the boy took the greatest pleasure in the word at seeing his superior squirm like the worm he really was. "_Bruder's _going to get you," he chanted once more, again enjoying France jerk violently, as though the child had hit him. "Better watch out when _Bruder _comes," Ludwig warned seriously as he turned to leave. "He won't be very happy with you," he threw over his shoulder, but did not look back.

And that is how he left. He smiled even as he heard France yelled something after him, but he never stopped. While it had given him great delight in seeing the other nation shaking and weeping in fright, Ludwig did not want to turn around and ruin the precious image he'd had left, seeing that pathetically tear stained, ashen face. It was something he'd always remember.

So, practically skipping down the hall, Ludwig went to his room, hoping to find Ida to tell her the good news. Gilbert was coming at last!

**oOoOoOo**

**1814**

"Keseseseses!" Gilbert snickered as they rode on through the French countryside and on towards Paris almost a full year later. "What do you think that old bastard Napoleon will do once he sees the three of us?" he asked, spirits higher than they had been in a long time. "Think the old man will do himself in?"

"Don't be so crass," Roderich reprimanded lightly, not really all that upset with the Prussian's words. "I doubt very much that Bonaparte would kill himself just because we've entered the city."

"Ah, he would if he were smart," Ivan smiled serenely next to them. "He must know that I am not happy with him for making me burn down, Moscow, _da_?"

"Or that he took _half _of my land," Gilbert growled darkly.

"But he also loves himself too much to destroy himself," Roderich rolled his eyes at the other two nations he rode with. "Now I believe we should not talk so loudly. Our leaders are speaking to one another at the moment."

At this, the Prussian snorted. "They _always _talk. I wish they hadn't made us stay here in the back with them. I could be killing some Frenchmen right now with old von Blücher!"

"That man of yours is quite old," the Russian frowned ever so slightly. "Why is it that you've placed him in command? This excitement must not be very good for him."

Gilbert snorted louder this time. "Please," he exclaimed. "Old von Blücher might be in his seventies, but he's the _best_. So far he's kicked France's ass, hasn't he? I'd like to see _you _turn out a better commander!"

"Enough," Roderich snapped, again having to keep the peace between the other two nations. "We're nearly there. In several more hours I daresay that we'll be in Paris."

"Do you believe that Britain will be there also?" Ivan asked, looking into different violet eyes.

Austria tried not to squirm under the Russian's gaze. "From the last messages we've received, I believe that he will be. His navy has been doing remarkably well."

The three nations fell into silence even as they rode on towards their goal. They all desired the end of the French Empire once and for all, but they were all of them a little anxious. France had been the dominating force in Europe for so long, what would it be like to suddenly be free of the power hungry French influence?

As this thought settled over the three nations, they remained silent as they rode on, their leaders before them, each one knew that within the next few days, there would no longer be a French Empire in Europe.

**oOoOoOo**

Things had steadily gotten worse in France since the day Ludwig found out Prussia had joined the war. Ever since Gilbert had joined the war, France had become more and more nervous about what was going to happen. Roderich had joined up soon after and with the combine strength of Russia, Prussia, and Austria on the main land along with Britain still steadily pushing from the north, the once shining empire was nearly at his wits end.

Ludwig had been helping Ida with her daily chores when the news came. While it had been rumored for several months now that there would be an attack on Paris itself, there had been no concrete news. But it was in late March the news was confirmed; the allied forces were indeed in France and were coming to Paris.

"He's coming!" Ludwig whispered to Ida, overjoyed at finally getting to see his brother again after eight years. "I told you he would come for me!"

The servant tried her best to smile for her little friend, but she could not manage to keep it. "_Kleiner, _you must not get your hopes too high," she said gently. "There is a chance that the French might still come out victorious, after all."

"_Nein_," the child shook his head resolutely. "_Bruder _will defeat France and come to get me. He promised."

"_Ja_," the girl sighed as she knelt down to face the boy she'd come to love dearly. "But you must not be disappointed if he does not come today or tomorrow. Battles often take a long time."

"_Ja_, I know." Ludwig couldn't get the smile off of his face, however. "I cannot wait for you to meet him, though! You will love Gilbert! He's the greatest nation ever!"

Whatever Ida really thought about Prussia, she kept it to herself, but could not help but smile down gently at the beaming child. "I am sure that if your brother is like you that I will like him very much," she kissed the top of the boy's head, which made him blush furiously.

The next morning, news spread throughout all of Paris that the allied armies had begun their attack. Ludwig tried to follow the gossip as best as he could, but everything was getting so confused. He looked out the windows and thought he could see fires off in the north and in the east. There were people rushing to grab telescopes to look out towards the battlefields, to see what was going on. The little nation was among them, wishing that he could get a glimpse of his brother, who was out there fighting.

It actually made Ludwig angry. Why was he sitting there doing nothing? He knew that some of his own people were out there at the moment, fighting alongside the Prussians and the Austrians, so what was _he _doing just standing there watching? Gilbert needed his help! And although he had no idea how, the child was _certain _that he'd been in such a situation before. He knew it was _right _that he be out there.

Without a second thought, the boy ran to his chambers and grabbed the sword of the Holy Roman Empire. France had allowed him to keep it, which he was grateful, and without looking back, the child ran out and prepared himself to go join the fight. All he had to do was get to the north where most of the fighting was happening and help beat back the French! And by nightfall, he was _certain _he'd be with his brother again. So, without thinking through the consequences completely, Ludwig ran out of the palace and into the streets of Paris.

After all his many years in France, Ludwig had never actually gone out of the palace before. He'd been allowed to go into the courtyards with Ida, he had free range of the inside of the palace, but he'd never once been allowed to go out by himself. He almost scared himself into just returning to the palace, but could not stand the thought of being a coward. Instead, he took several deep breaths and realized that it didn't matter if he knew Paris or not. He was not looking for a place _in _Paris, what he needed to do was go north of the city to the battleground. So all he had to do was go north, which was not hard.

With his newfound courage, the little nation began running as fast as he could to where he saw smoke rising. He nearly jumped out of his skin, however, when he heard someone call out to him.

"_Deutschland!_"

He turned his head just enough to see Ida running after him, a frightened look on her face. Immediately Ludwig cursed himself. He had not wanted Ida to follow him! She would only get hurt! "Go back in and wait for me!" he called out. "I'll come back later with Prussia!"

By this time, Ida had caught up with the other German, and she grabbed his wrist. "_Nein_," she said sternly, frowning down angrily at the boy. "You are coming back inside with me right _now_."

The child pulled his arm away crossly. "I need to help Gilbert," he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I can't help him if I have to stay here."

"_Mein Gott, _Ludwig," Ida exclaimed in exasperation. "You're a _child!_ What can you do out there? All you've got is this little sword!"

"I can do it!" he argued. He was a little hurt by Ida's reaction to this. He'd never seen her angry, and certainly never at him, but he was determined to have her see it his way. "I _need _to do this! For our people!" What kind of nation was he if he simply hid behind everyone?

At this, Ida's face lost its irritation and contorted into something sad, as though she were fighting a battle with herself. "I…I know that you're a nation," she said slowly, "and that you're not human and can do amazing things…but you're still a child to me, and I'm worried," she explained patiently. "I would _never _forgive myself if something happened to you, _Schätzchen_."

Unable to remain frustrated after that, Ludwig smiled up sadly at his caretaker. For all of her worry, she had a good heart, and he loved her for it. "Then come with me," he declared boldly, suddenly feeling very confident with the day. "Once we get on the allied side, I'm sure that _Bruder _would watch after us both."

"Can we not wait for this battle to be over?" she asked, cornflower blue eyes collecting tears. "Can we not wait for things to calm? Must we leave now?"

"We can always come back once Gilbert and the others have won," Ludwig smiled up confidently at the German girl. "I need to help them." There was just this part of him that _had _to go.

Biting her lower lip, Ida nodded once before standing. She allowed the little nation to lead her flinching at every noise she heard. But while Ida was frightened, Ludwig felt strangely… exhilarated. There was something about entering the battle that made him feel like a different person, like he had been born and breed to fight. Something about it all made him excited. He just knew he had to be out there, just had to fight alongside his brother. The idea of it felt so right.

The two Germans ran from the city until they came to the battle lines. French soldiers were all scrambling here and there, panic ringing clearly in their voices. They paid no attention to the little boy or the woman that were standing in the back of their ranks. They had no time to think about anything other than the Prussian and Russian soldiers pounding away at their defenses.

"Those are Russians," Ida whispered to her charge, not knowing if he'd ever seen the Russian uniforms before. "We are very close. Perhaps we should stay here until they overrun the French? We would be relatively safe here and when the Russians come, we could give them our aid then."

"No," Ludwig shook his head, wondering if he should try to sabotage the French from his present position or if he should just run to the other side to find Gilbert and ask him what he should do. He decided that Gilbert would know best, and grabbed Ida's hand. "This way! There's not a lot going on here and we could go through to the others."

Shaking with nearly uncontrolled fear, Ida followed the child, trusting that her nation knew best. She kept having to tell herself that Ludwig was not a simple boy, but a nation. Despite how young and innocent the little German looked, he was really something so much more. "Okay," she said, her voice quivering ever so slightly. She had a terrible feeling that by the end of the day, something dreadful would have happened to her little _Deutschland. _

As the two went on, Ludwig's heart began pounding faster and faster, his anticipation nearly crushing him. He'd been waiting eight long years for this day, and it had finally arrived. The battle around them flared up again causing the two Germans to stop and wait in the back, still completely ignored by the desperate French. As they waited, the child took in his surroundings but stop when his eyes fell upon a rather imposing sight.

Almost directly across from them, stood the tallest, most ominous man Ludwig had ever seen in his life. The man was so tall, looming over everyone around him, standing over his men like dark tower from which came forth the orders of death. There was something about that man, besides his height, that inspired fear, like some sort of portentous aura about him…something that made the child feel suddenly very cold.

The man looked fierce as he commanded his army. The pale face was twisted into something ugly as he screamed out his orders. There was blood coding his green jacket, blood spatter on his white face, contrasting startlingly. His voice was deep, booming over the fire, his language course, sounding harsh upon the boy's ears after hearing mostly French for so many years. The man had hair the color of ash mixed with snow and his eyes…there were cold, dark violet eyes, chilling the heart with their contempt and apathy.

But while Ludwig was staring, suddenly the cool eyes landed on him. The velvet eyes widened, apparently surprised at seeing a child standing out there near the battlefield. The coldness seemed to melt just slightly at the shock, but the man settled into a decidedly grim expression, as though he was not sure what he should consider the boy. From his side, Ludwig fought to keep himself from squirming under the intense gaze; even from that distance, it was still so intense…

But the contact was broken when there was suddenly a solider riding up to the woman and child, looking very stern. The horse got so close, that Ida involuntarily let out a small scream of surprise, her nervousness getting the better of her. But the horse stopped just shy of stepping on them. "What are you doing out here?" the man demanded, his face was red and sweat ran down the side of his face. "Get out of here! Leave you fools!" he commanded, before he rode off once more.

Ida took several moments to catch her breath, tears unknowingly running from down her eyes, before she looked at her small charge. "We should go!" she called over the noise, flinching every time the mortar was fired.

Rationally, Ludwig agreed with her. It was very chaotic at the moment, everyone one in a panic at the allies advanced, but there was something else that would not settle in the boy. There was a part of him that yearned to be out in the heat of battle, to be fighting alongside his brother and Roderich. Some of his own people were fighting the French at that very moment, why shouldn't he be out there too helping them? Why was he the only one that had to sit on the sidelines and watch as they all fought while he had to remain helpless? It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right. He was a nation, it was _his _duty to fight, to protect his people!

Without even looking back at Ida, Ludwig dashed forward in a mad attempt to get to the Russian side. He heard Ida scream, but he did not turn back. He could feel more than see the tall Russian watching him, but he only focused straight ahead. He had to get to the other side, he had to help!

Despite his mad run, Ida caught up to him, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him into her arms as she ran. Her legs were longer, she was much faster than the boy, but it was in that moment that Ludwig realized how stupid he had been, giving into his impulses. "What are you doing!" he cried. He was suddenly overwhelmed with fear for his caretaker. Why hadn't he ordered her to stay? Why hadn't she gone back to the city?

Why had he been stupid enough to make her come with him in the first place?

There were suddenly loud shots being fired not too far away from them. All at once Ludwig began to feel pain flaring up inside him, his eyes going wide with shock. He looked up to see the tall Russian man watching him with a horrified expression on his face even as he seemed to call out more orders to his people. The little nation could no longer hear anything, the shot had been very close, and his ears were ringing. The entire situation felt too familiar, like it had all happened before, and the child began to panic.

The next thing Ludwig knew was that he was on the ground, Ida falling on top of him. He hit his head hard, and he found himself slowly slipping into unconsciousness. A single thought echoed through his mind before the darkness claimed him: _What have I done? _

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry for jumping around with the years in this chapter. It was necessary without bogging down the story, I thought. Next chapter shouldn't jump so much. And just a reminder for everyone out there, Ludwig is still young, still foolish and inexperienced. He is still trying to balance the part of him that is Holy Roman Empire, with the new, more Germany-like boy he is now. He's not the cool-headed, completely rational person he is when he's an adult. That Germany comes out of many future experiences he will have. Experiences shape a person, you know, so before you point a finger and cry OOC!- just remember that he's young and still dealing with trying to figure out who he is…besides, he's related to Prussia, who _loves _to fight, _and _add on the fact that he hasn't seen his brother in eight years…so yeah… my line of logic.

**History: **The Patriotic War of 1812 between Russia and France. In the summer/ fall months of 1812, France and Russia fought it out, ending in a narrow French victory. The Russians burned down Moscow though so that the French could not resupply themselves. Because of this, the French were slowly starving and could not get supplies, and Napoleon called for reinforcements. Unfortunately for him, he'd spread his armies too thin and there was no one to help. So Napoleon tried to negotiate in which the Russians refused. The French fled Moscow in October, hoping to escape, but they were caught in the winter and many of them killed. As stated in the story, Russian people would harass the soldiers and even cut some of the bridges to hinder their retreat. Of the 600,000 troops that went to fight, only about 120,000 returned.

This loss had major consequences. First and foremost, seeing this victory, Prussia decided to join the war, only three months after Napoleon limped back to Paris. With the Prussians joining, the Austrians joined not too far behind them. The people of France also started to dislike Napoleon, and no longer trusted him as much. They no longer wanted him as emperor. The Germans in the Confederation also started to lose faith in Napoleon.

Prussia's Gebhard von Blücher has to be one of the most badass commanders in the history of ever! XD Not only did he come out of retirement and kick France's (along with the other allies) butt, he was around seventy-four years old when he did it! The guy was awesome! Clearly one of the greats, like Otto von Bismarck! XD

And, in March of 1814, about a year after Prussia joined up, the allies did march to France and fight, but I'll save that history for Part II.

**Thanks** everyone for all the reviews, favorites, and story alerts out there! I'm so glad you're all enjoying this so far! And have a happy New Years!


	14. Chapter 12: Part 2: Victory

**Chapter Twelve:**

**Part Two: Victory**

Gilbert couldn't think of a time when he felt more alive. He stood at the front lines with his men, facing off with the French. This was it, the moment he'd been waiting eight years for. It was finally the time when he would destroy France and get his little brother back, the time when he would crush the French army and regain his honor and his land. Today was a good day to fight. Today, Gilbert was going to prove himself to the world.

Across from him, the albino was certain he saw France himself. How delicious that the Frog had chosen this particular spot to fight along with his men. _You're all mine then_, he thought gleefully.

Picking up his rifle, the German nation aimed and fired his weapon towards the other country. The weapons themselves were not all that accurate, but they were a hell of a lot better than the first guns which Prussia had rather despised at the time many years ago. At least it _was _possible to kill with this weapon. He watched with satisfaction as a French soldier was unlucky enough to catch his bullet. How wonderful it was to watch the enemy fall to the ground and move no more.

Grinning like a fool, Prussia jumped up on his horse and began screaming out orders for his men. As he passed, he noticed that his men seemed to double their efforts as he rode past, as though he had given them new wind. It pleased him greatly to know that his people were fighting so hard. They knew what was at stake, they knew what this all meant.

While some would claim that there is nothing pleasing about war, Gilbert had to disagree. While others cried out in fear, cursed the unlucky star that they had been born under to deserve to fight in such a mess, the nation could not hold back his excitement. He fired shot after shot, cackling and hollering his mirth to the world. This is what he had been born to do, this was what he had always _liked _to do, even before he had been tamed and dominated by the Holy Roman Empire. In the heat of battle, Gilbert felt invincible, felt as though he could do anything. He was in complete control.

Some called him blood-thirsty, but honestly Prussia did not care much. While he assumed "blood-thirsty" was supposed to be a derogatory term, he simply laughed at it. Blood was important to nations, it was almost sacred. It was by blood that many states were born. It was blood that either kept them alive or had them killed; what made them strong or weak. It was by blood that a personification proved himself to the world.

But it was not just the act of bloodshed itself that pleased Gilbert, he was truly not so malicious as that, even if it seemed that way at times. When he fought, the albino could not help but think of his father at such times, and how old Germania had fought so impressively through the years, even when things looked bleak. Although Rome had been bigger, in Prussia's eyes, Germania had proven stronger over time, had been more cunning. Although he never knew for sure, it was rumored that the fall of Rome was to be credited to Germania himself. The act of bringing down the great Mediterranean Empire was no small feat, and Gilbert had been very proud of his father. And it was in battle, plotting, planning that the younger nation felt closest to his father. Because while his brother had wanted to become the next Roman Empire, deep down, Prussia had always wanted to become the next Germania.

So while fighting itself lead to some terrible things, for Prussia, it was not that bad. He worked hard, had always fought his way through life, for survival, for recognition, and here he was again. The dream of the Roman Empire had fallen along with Gerwig, and truthfully, many years before that, but now, Prussia was out there, fighting for his existence, his people, his brother. There was a part of him that wondered that when he got his brother back if he could not merge together and create the most powerful German state the world had ever seen. Sure, it had been tried before, but Gilbert was certain that he could pull it off, maybe one day. Would his father be proud of him for that? Would Germania smile upon a _Deutschland_?

A shot whizzed past Gilbert, bringing him out of his thoughts, disrupting his more automatic responses in battle. When he looked up he noticed that France was holding a rifle, and it was pointed at him. A feral smile slipped onto the kingdom's lips and his slid off of his horse, grabbing his own rifle. "Oh, I've been waiting for you," he whispered, nearly bursting with anticipation.

While the fighting around them continued, the two nations approached one another. They knew that their people would not interfere with their fight, it was an unspoken rule. When a nation faced off nation in such a way, no one dared disturb them.

"Oh, look who has decided to come out and play!" Gilbert taunted, his smile only darkening with malicious intent. "I'd thought you'd run that pansy ass of yours back into Paris."

France looked beyond furious at the moment, but Prussia ignored that in pursuit of looking the other man over thoroughly. It looked as though France had been in a bit of a skirmish already, his uniform was dirty and torn, and there was blood covering his knees. There was even a hole in the left arm of his jacket.

"So you've been to see Austria, have you?" Gilbert guess, knowing that France would probably not be standing had he encountered Russia.

Again, France's face reddened with anger. "_Tais-toi_!" the failing empire snapped. "All that you do is talk when I see you! If you believe that you are so strong then why not prove it?"

And that was all the invitation that Gilbert needed. Without wasting time, he pulled out a pistol he had kept in his belt and shot it at the blonde, laughing. Taken by surprise, France dropped down to his knees to avoid the shot that had been aimed at his head. By the time he looked up again, Prussia was already sprinting towards him, his rifle poised for the bayonet to end the struggle.

Jumping up as fast as he could, France readied himself to deflect the attack. He managed to repel the worst of it, but the force in which Prussia was now pushing was enough to send France stumbling backwards. Knowing this trick, Francis tried his hardest to get a firmer foothold, because if he went down, he knew that would be the end of him.

After a moment's struggle, the two broke off their efforts to knock the other over, and France took up his rifle and shot it at his enemy. Prussia easily dodged the shot and didn't waste any time charging forward to stab the other man again. Unable to reload, the blonde once again did his best to hold the advancing country back. Because France was losing so much power, and because Prussia was out for revenge, their strength was pretty well evenly matched. Neither one could really get the upper hand on the other. In terms of height there was little to no advantage as they were both about the same stature, Gilbert being only an inch or so taller.

When it became apparent, that neither one was going to make significant progress, Prussia pushed back as hard as he could with his rifle, it was just enough to send France stumbling back a step. When the blonde hastily righted himself, Gilbert had already drawn his sword. Picking up the intent, France laughed. "Are we to fight like gentlemen here on the battlefield, _mon ami?_"

In full fighting mode, his mind going back to the Crusades, Gilbert smiled coldly, freezing the heart. "There are no gentlemen in war," he shook his head continuing to pin down his opponent under ruby daggers. "There are only winners and losers; those that come back alive and those that don't."

France nervously laughed, but he threw down his rifle away as well in favor of drawing his sword. Nations always carried their favorite swords with them, especially when it came to war. In their experiences, swords were more practical for fighting one on one with their enemy, but while fighting alongside their men they used the modern weapons available.

They faced off there, in the middle of everything. The battle around them seemed to lull just a bit as men from both sides watched their respective countries. It was Gilbert that struck first, eager and wanting to draw blood. France easily deflected the blow and struck back, in which Prussia simply blocked. While France was weakening, he had the advantage of patience; the albino in front of him was nearly trembling with impatience. But Gilbert was a soldier by heart and while he had a tendency to be impulsive, he also had enough self-control to wait and strike when the moment was right. And with that military mindset, the albino also had vengeance to back him. He hated France so much, hated everything that he'd done over the years that he utterly _refused _to let the blonde win.

The two fought, each one a stunning example of their cultures' finest swordsmanship. France's movements were more graceful, his movements perhaps just a bit more fluid, while Prussia's strikes were powerful, his movements precise, whispering the desire of ending the fight as quick as possible. They fought with two different styles, but the goal was ultimately the same; one was going to walk away the winner, the other perhaps not at all.

As they struggled with each other, both panting, sweat running down their flushed faces, France grabbed Prussia's free wrist, but the German nation simply head-butted the blonde. The empire was stunned by the action for a moment before he gave a small cry of surprise once he felt the pain exploded in his head. The albino had not been gentle.

"You barbarian!" France growled, quick to right himself should the other attack. "You are such a brute!"

Gilbert merely smiled, the attack had not fazed him much. He had a rather thick skull in all honestly, so he was able to use such force without it coming back to hurt him. The German laughed once the other seemed to shrink back just a bit from his malevolent grin. "Keseseseseseses! Well that wasn't very nice to say, _Frankreich_. What if you hurt my feelings?"

France scowled. "You and _your _kind don't _have _any feelings, you beast!" the blonde snarled. "You're completely uncultured and your people have no idea of what beauty is at all!"

While the other was speaking, Prussia took the opportunity to lunge forward and swipe at his opponent. France was not quick enough and Gilbert managed to clip his shoulder, right where Austria seemed to have torn the jacket earlier. Lovely droplets of crimson came spilling out of the thin incision the albino had created.

Hissing in pain, France blindly swung his sword to keep his attacker at bay. Gilbert lightly jumped back, avoiding the enemy blade easily. Seeing the blonde so furious, Prussia could not help but laugh. "Being a brute isn't so bad," he shrugged slightly. "At least I know how to fight!"

And so on the battle between the two went. At the beginning of the fight, the two seemed fairly even, neither one having too clear of advantage. But it soon became apparent that France could not keep up the intensity of the fight and soon began to slow and tire. All Gilbert had to do was wait him out, but his own impatience was getting the better of him and he wished to end the fight quickly.

"Just bow out already, Francis," Prussia growled, getting tired of chasing the Frenchmen around. "We both know how this is going to end, _ja_?"

"What's the matter, you getting tired?" France mocked, but it was ruined by frightened look in his eyes.

Snickering, Gilbert shook his head, knowing that the other was afraid. "_Nein_, just bored," he smirked. "When I planned on fighting you, I'd figured it'd be more entertaining than just seeing you run around in circles."

The blonde scowled darkly, but otherwise did not comment. And so Prussia jumped in and tried to induce the other nation into fight him in a more consistent manner, to which France did at first, before he once again backed away and managed to slow the fight down and forced Gilbert to chase after him. The albino knew that the other just wanted time to breathe and gather more strength, but he did not want that. While France could get a rest and so could he, it wouldn't end the fight any sooner, and Prussia wanted it over with _now_.

"I'm getting really sick of this, Francis," Gilbert called out like an angry father to his wayward son. "Just come here and let's get this over with so I can beat you and we can both be done with this damn war!"

For whatever reason that seemed to be the phrase that set France off. For once, he was the first to initiate the attack, and he charged at Prussia with his sword raised high, utter hatred blazing in his eyes. It took a moment for Gilbert to adjust to the sudden change, and he wondered why the Frenchmen would suddenly turn so aggressive, when he heard footsteps running up behind him.

Before Gilbert could block France's sword, he came to realize that it wasn't really aimed for him in the first place, and that over his shoulder, another blade had come into view to block the blonde's attack. Taken by surprise by the seer oddness of it all, along with how quickly everything had transpired, Prussia stumbled backwards, away from the locked blade, and away from France's new target.

Once recovered, an easy grin came over Gilbert's lips when he saw just who came into the fight. With a might shove, Arthur pushed France away, blade still poised to strike. "Sorry I'm late," the Brit said simply, not even bothering to look in the Prussian's direction.

Chuckling, Gilbert went and stood next to the Englishmen, ready start back in on the fight. He couldn't help the nasty grin that slipped on his face as he watched France's panicked face. "Not a problem," the albino said to his ally, loving the way Frenchmen seemed to cringe.

"Two against one is _not _fair," France whined, darting glances between his two opponents. "This is _not _how gentlemen fight!"

It was a last minute escape attempt for France to even the odds, Gilbert knew. Britain was very adamant about "upholding the gentlemen like ways" for some reason recently. The appeal was for England, and him alone, but before the green-eyed nation could think to speak, Prussia answered quickly. "I thought I'd already told you, _Frankreich_," he purred. "There are no gentlemen in war."

Without another word, he launched himself towards the other nation, swiping his sword expertly. To his delight, Britain was furious enough that he _did _decided to forget about the gentlemen-like arts and leapt to attack his nemesis as well. Together, the two battled the Frenchmen without mercy. It was time for all of this to end.

Britain, Prussia noticed, was a surprisingly vicious fighter when it came to France. Had Gilbert wanted to ease up and show a little mercy, England would have crushed all sentiments coldly. Whenever the albino felt himself tire, the other seemed to have eternal strength as he fought, and it also seemed that France conjured up more energy as well, knowing that he was battling his long-time rival. It was actually amusing to Gilbert how much the two hated one another. But that was fine, they could kill each other for all he cared, he just wanted to get into Paris.

The fight took on a new air and soon it was mostly France and Britain fighting with Prussia coming in and watching England's back, just in case. The shorter blonde didn't seem to mind though, the look of loathing flashing in those emerald eyes insured Gilbert that the island nation was more than glad to deal with the Frog on his own. But then again, the albino wasn't going to let the other have _all _the fun.

After what felt like near eternity to Gilbert, his patience wore thin. France was bleeding from the many marks that Arthur and Gilbert had inflicted, and Prussia was glad to note that the failing empire also had a rather lovely bruise on his forehead. As they closed in around France, ready to end the fight and ensure their victory once and for all, the battle that had been going on around them turned, and suddenly there were French soldiers in their path, blocking them from France.

While Gilbert was upset, Britain was beyond furious. "Get back you here you bloody Frog!" he screamed, slashing his way through the other men. "You coward! Get _back _here I say!"

But it was no use, France had taken the chance and hopped up on a horse and was riding away seconds later. While Britain ran after him, homicidal intensions still coursing through his veins, Gilbert took the time to dispatch the little band of Frenchmen that had dared disturb their fight. After they had been taken care of, he went to the other nation. "_Halt_!" he called out. "_Halt!_ Wait!"

At last, Britain seemed to finally listen and slowed down his running until he stopped. He doubled over panting which allowed Prussia to catch up with him. "Bloody…wanker," he wheezed. "Who just runs from a fight?"

"The French, apparently," Gilbert shrugged.

"Well we _can't _just let him get away! We have to go after him!" England growled. "We have to _end _this!"

Gilbert looked off into the direction France had fled. There was a very great part of him that wanted to go after him, hunt him down and skin him like a deer, but there was also a part of him that knew his own men needed him to stay and help them. Von Blücher would need his help too. After all, the man _was _in his seventies! And there was still the fact that they had to prepare to enter into Paris, and that's what Gilbert was most concerned about. He _needed _to get in there and find his little brother!

The albino placed a comforting hand on the island nation's should. The blonde snapped his head up, scowl firmly in place before it dissolved when he realized the rather sadistic smile that had seeped onto Prussia's lips. Any further argument that Britain was about to give died on his lips, and he only managed an "Eh?" before straightening up.

"I wouldn't worry about France," Gilbert's cold smile sent chills down the other nation's spine. "We did enough damage to him. But it would seem that he wants to go play awhile with Russia now." Britain turned his head back in the direction that France had fled, realizing for the first time that the other had run in the exact location that the Russians were fighting now. "Besides," Prussia went on, "I'm sure Russia isn't too happy about being forced to burn his capitol. I know that he had wanted to _talk _to France about all that."

Although it was clear that Britain wasn't happy about the turn of events and his inability to kill France, he at least acquiesced and followed the kingdom back to their side of the lines knowing that the eastern empire could do far worse to France than any of them. As Gilbert walked on with thoughts of getting into Paris as soon as possible, plans on getting his brother back, Arthur was also starting to making plans for his own brother. However, England's plans for America were not as pleasant as Prussia's for Germany.

**oOoOoOo**

That night, out in the cool night air, Russia walked alone through the battlefield, as was his custom. The moon was high in the sky, and the corpses had yet to become overbearing with stench. It was eerily silent, but he did not mind much as he walked amongst the dead. Such things hardly bothered him anymore. He was old enough to have seen such sights before thousands of times over.

As he looked down upon the fallen, his eyes softened as he gazed his own people. They had fought so bravely, and he was very proud of them. A rush of anger shot through him and he barely had the strength to resist the urge to go and kill France once and for all. But that was not what he had been ordered to do, so that is what he did not do.

An icy smile came to his lips as he recalled his fight with France. It had not taken him long to completely overwhelm the other empire. All it had taken was one swing on his sword to catch the other in the torso, cutting him deep, another swing to make France drop his weapon— breaking his arm in the process— and one hit with the butt of a rifle to break the nation's leg. Ivan thought he had been quite merciful considering all that had occurred because of France, and he was eager to inflict more damage. He had not forgotten 1812 you see. But Alexander had ordered him to stop, so stop is what he did.

It was decided that France was to be the messenger to the people of Paris and Napoleon that his armies had failed him and so had his brother. So it had been with great reluctance that Russia had not killed the other empire and had simply set him on a horse, commanding him to deliver the message that Paris was theirs and the allied forces would be riding into the city in the morning. It was simple enough, but unable to leave things at that, Ivan had cut off the blonde's beloved hair, hoping to humiliate the other man further, just as Russia had been humiliated as he had set fire to his own beloved Moscow.

But enough with the thoughts of France. They only upset Ivan and he did not want to be angry at the moment. He wanted to take his own personal count of the men that he had lost. While many people thought him quite cold and indifferent, Russia did love his people the same as any other nation. Their deaths weighed just as heavy upon his heart.

As he strolled on, a faint sound caught his attention. It was not uncommon for soldiers to have passed out during the battle only to wake once it was finished. The men had been so joyous after it had been declared that France was defeated, many had not taken the time to look over the field, and had been quick to celebrate. While Ivan could not really blame them, it still upset him that they had not remembered their own comrades who had been injured in the fight.

Straining his ears, Russia followed the sound as best as he could, thanking God for the clear, crisp spring night. It did not take him long before he found himself in the place where he had originally been station before the battle had shifted and the lines had moved considerably. It was only then that the large empire remembered a horrifying fact that he'd push aside while fighting. This was the exact location that he'd seen a woman and child run across the battlefield!

Quickening his steps, Ivan began looking about more frantically. He was about to call out when his eyes caught something glistening from the moonlight. Turning his head, the great nation saw a little boy with pale hair and pale skin. Under the moon, the child almost looked a soft shade of blue, making him look unnatural and ghostly. The boy looked very cold as he sat kneeling before a body, so mournful, that it reminded Ivan of a bitter winter.

Carefully, he walked over to the small child. The boy seemed so caught up in his own misery that he did not hear as the large man picked his way through the field and closer towards him. "_Privet_, _malish_," Russia said gently.

The boy spun around with large eyes with silver trails of tears running down his cheeks. The child was so small that it took Ivan a moment to blink back his own surprise and wonderment at why such a tiny thing had come running into the battle earlier that morning.

While the boy seemed apprehensive of the man standing before him, he did not move away from where he was, but instead watched silently as Russia knelt down near him. The eyes that stared back at Ivan were a frosty blue, and the boy looked painfully beautiful with tears brimming in his crystal eyes. He looked like a glass doll.

"_Bonsoir__,_" Ivan decided to switch languages.

The boy's eyes flashed with recognition at the word, but then slipped back into a pitifully broken glaze. "S-she won't g-get up!" the boy whimpered, sufficiently breaking Ivan's heart. "I-I've t-tried to wake h-her, but she w-won't get up!"

The first thing that grabbed Russia's attention was the fact that the child had a rather strong German accent. While the boy did have a German look about him, Ivan was not always able to tell the difference between nationalities when it came to the western nations. They all tended to look similar to him, but he knew accents very well. Why there was a German child here, of all places, he couldn't guess, but what confused Ivan more was the fact that he had been running from the _French _side.

But the empire pushed that all aside for the time being in pursuit of working with the problem at hand. Carefully, he stood and knelt down in front of the woman. It was quite obvious she was dead, a large bullet wound to the back ensured that she had probably died fairly quickly. Thinking back to that afternoon, Russia did remember seeing her get shot by some panicked French soldier. She had gone down instantly with the boy still clung to her chest. It had been a rather terrible sight, but Ivan couldn't help but be thankful that the woman had died rather than the boy. In all honesty, he hated it when he had to bury a child.

"I am sorry, _malish_," man said gently. "But I am afraid she is dead."

It was not easy for anyone to really worm their way into Russia's soft spot, him having been hardened by many years of suffering and agony, but seeing the pale, tiny face before him crumple into utter despair insured that the boy had Ivan's utmost pity and sympathy. It had been a while since Russia had interacted with such a small child, the last that he had actually interacted with one on one had been Britain's former colony, America. But America was no longer a child, by any means, and was now, as far as Ivan knew, in his own war with Britain.

As the boy sobbed, Russia took a moment to look over the child. The child's shoulder had been grazed by a stray shot, and blood caked around his shirt. Scooting over cautiously, Ivan gently took the blonde's tiny hand. The child jumped terribly, and looked up in alarm at the nation.

"I would like to help you," Ivan said evenly, making sure his voice was low and as calm as possible. "You are hurt, see?" He nodded towards the child's shoulder.

When the boy's attention shifted to the injury, he at first seemed confused, as though he had not noticed it at all, but Ivan took advantage of this and gathered the child in his arms. He stood and proceeded to walk back to camp.

The boy went stiff in his arms before he began to wiggle and protest. "_Nein!_" he cried, slipping into his native German. "I cannot leave her!"

"There is nothing that can be done for her now, _malish,_" Russia said patiently. "She would want you to be safe and well, _da_?"

Almost instantly the boy began sobbing again. He cried so hard that his tiny body shook violently, alarming the empire. "_Bitte!_" he wept. "_Bitte_!"

Again, Russia felt his heart go out to the child. Perhaps it was because the blonde was so small, or perhaps it was the look of dejection, but for whatever reason it really was, Ivan found himself stopping and turning back to the body of the fallen woman. Patting the child's back, Russia walked back towards the lady, and knelt down. While still holding on to the boy, Ivan carefully overturned the body. The woman looked fairly young, and looked to have been quite lovely when she had been alive. Her hair was the color of wheat and he was sure her eyes had once been a beautiful blue, but they were a cold grey now, forever blank.

Ivan closed the eyes of the woman and placed her hands over her chest in the traditional burial pose, before crossing himself out of habit. He was mildly surprised when the child turned and crossed himself as well, looking down with miserable blue eyes. "_Entschuldigung_, Ida," the child whispered heartbrokenly. "_Ruhe in Frieden_."

Pain seemed to radiate off of the boy in great waves, and Ivan was not wholly unaffected. Looking down at the woman, Ivan noticed that she had a ring on her right, middle finger. He reached over and slid if off, all the while having the boy watching him closely. Then, Russia passed the simply silver band to the boy. Once the boy had it in his hands, Russia stood again. "There," the empire said simply. "Now you have something to remember her by. I am sure she would want you to have it."

The child did not complain this time as Russia carried him away. Instead, the child held onto the ring as if it were his last hope of survival, before hugging Ivan around the neck fiercely. The nation was a bit surprised by the action, no one had ever really proved to be so trusting of him to be this affectionate, but he soon warmed to the idea of comforting the boy and began to rub the small back. The child was so tiny, that Russia's hand was nearly half of the size of the little one's back. A smile slipped onto Ivan's face at the fact.

They walked on in silence for several minutes, and just when Ivan began to believe that the little thing had cried himself to sleep, the boy spoke. "Will you take me to _Bruder_?"

That's when Russia remembered the strangeness of coming across a little German. "Ah, you have a brother here? In which army does he belong? Austrian or Prussian?"

"P-Prussian," the child sniffled.

"I see," Russia smiled, even if the boy couldn't see him. "I will take you to their camp."

"_Danke_," the boy muttered. They were silent for another moment before the boy spoke again in a tiny voice. "Who are you?"

At this, Russia could not help but chuckle at the little creature's timid nature. "I am _Rossiya_." The child shifted in his arms, enough to look at him closely. "And who might you be, _malish_?"

The boy cocked his head to the side, curiosity seeming to get the better of him as he focused on the nation before him more than his current grief. "I…do not know," he answered in a tiny voice.

"You do not know?" Russia raised an eyebrow. "Surely you have a name, _da_?"

"_Ja_," the boy agreed, before becoming silent for a moment, pensive. "I…I was used to be _Rheinbund_"_—_ Ivan stiffened— "but I do not know if I am anymore," came the sad reply.

"I see," was Russia's only reply for a long moment. "So you are _Prussiya's _brother, _da_?"

"_Ja_," the boy nodded. "You know where he is?"

The hope that shown in those clear blue eyes was enough to melt any heart, and it was able to thaw Russia's own. He smiled kindly at the boy, a true smile. "_Da_," he nodded. "I do."

The child seemed to relax slightly and nodded as well. It came as a surprise to Ivan when the child wrapped his arms around his neck again and nuzzled close. "_Danke schön._"

The sincere gratitude further warmed Russia to the boy. While he was not fond of Prussia, the kingdom had proven himself during the fight and had launched rather successful campaigns over the last year. The other nation had also sent troops to Russia when he had needed them, and while there was still a general dislike and mistrust of the other, Ivan supposed that he could send this little one back to Prussia. After all, the tiny blonde seemed desperate to get back to the albino, had even run into the thick of battle to try and escape the French. There was really no way he could deny the child now.

So, smiling, Ivan walked back towards camp, almost swaying, trying to calm the boy who had started up his tears again. Although no one would have guessed, Russia did have a rather soft spot for children. Why, he did not know. Perhaps it was because they were so small and innocent, or maybe it was because they were just refreshing with their honesty and blunt manner. He had been deceived and betrayed so many times in the past that in the end, Ivan had just become sick of dealing with people. At least when children spoke they told you what they wanted and did not try to double-deal, and when they lied to you, you could always tell. Yes, children were easier to deal with, easier to control, and Ivan liked them much better than adults.

So it was with reluctance that Ivan came to the outside of the camp where troops from all four armies had come together to celebrate and he marched himself to the main tent where the main festivity was taking place. A part of him wanted to keep the child, no doubt his Tsar would be pleased to gain such vast territory, but then he knew he could not rightfully claim the boy. After all, much of the land the boy had acquired had been stolen from Prussia and the rest was just too far from his reach and had been overseen mostly by Austria. So, with a sigh, he entered into the tent, still hugging the little confederation close.

The noise of celebration was even louder within the tent as men from four nations sang and laughed and drank to their victory. It was even noisier and more rambunctious than when Russia had left, and he wrinkled his nose at it. The boy he held hugged his neck tighter, apparently in no mood to enjoy himself.

At the very back sat Austria, Prussia, and Britain, all of them slightly pink in the face from drinking while Britain and Prussia were singing along to some God-forsaken English drinking song. While England was slurring his way through the words, Prussia did not seem to know many of them and simply made noise that tried to keep up with the melody. Austria sat smiling, the alcohol smoothing over his usually hot temper, but it was apparent that the drunkards tone deaf tunes were grating on his nerves terribly as his eye would twitch whenever a note was particularly terrible.

"Ah! Russia!" Britain called happily. He seemed to have had more drink then the rest. "Where the hell have you been, old chap? Y-you're missing the party!"

Russia had been about to reply when Prussia began cackling loudly which sufficiently cut him off. "Where've you been? Out—"

But then Prussia was interrupted when the boy in Ivan's arms turned around quickly, his sudden movements stunning everyone, before he cried out. "_Bruder!_"

Before Ivan could have done anything to help, the child squirmed out of the empire's grasp, and fell to the ground. He landed graceful enough, but the moment his feet were on the ground, he dashed off towards his brother like a frightened kitten. It seemed that Prussia was not drunk enough to remain frozen too long, because the moment his saw the child running to him, he snapped out of his daze and jumped over the table so that his brother could get to him sooner. "West!" he cried out happily, his eyes looking suspiciously wet.

And before Prussia could kneel down all the way, the child flew into his brother's arms, hugged him ardently, all the while sobbing. "_Bruder!_" the boy wept burying himself in his brother's chest.

Prussia, on the other hand was smiling broadly as he held the tiny child close. The albino seemed close to bursting with happiness and he promptly picked the boy up and hugged him tightly while laughing loudly for all to hear. "I told you I'd come!" he boasted. "I told you I would, and I've got you back, West! I've got you back!"

Russia watched silently as Prussia and the small confederation had their reunion. Austria was on his feet soon enough and ran over to the other two Germans, smiling brightly. Britain, who had indulged himself perhaps too much, was grinning stupidly before raising his glass and cheered. "Another round!" he called, and soon the whole tent gave a shout of approval before beginning another round of their frightfully out of key song.

For a moment, Ivan wondered if he should not tell the other kingdom of his brother's suffering, but then a part of him did not want to get involved. Surely the boy would confide in his brother, wouldn't he? What right did the eastern nation have in interfering in the child's life? But then again, he had been the one to save the boy…

But Russia never got the chance to say anything. The moment Prussia realized that the boy was wounded, he quickly fled the festivities and would not seen the rest of the night, nor was the boy. With a sad smile, Ivan watched after them. "_Sladkih snov, malish_," he whispered after them.

**oOoOoOo**

Once away from the others, Gilbert couldn't help but laugh again as he kissed the top of his brother's head. "Don't worry, West! _Großer Bruder _will fix you up!"

When he got to his tent, he sat the boy down and began to clean the injury. But after only a minute of looking over the blonde, Gilbert noticed how terrible his brother really looked. The child's eyes were red and swollen from crying, he was covered in dirt and dust, and he looked utterly miserably. Concern replaced joy instantly.

"West? What's wrong, West? Are you hurt anywhere else?" When the boy did not answer, Prussia began to panic slightly. "What is it, West? What happened? Did Russia do anything to you?"

The thought of the other nation hurting his little brother in any way sent waves of fury coursing through him, but the albino's temper was diffused by a small, "_Nein_."

While he was relieved at least that Russia hadn't tired anything, Gilbert came to the fact that he had no idea how his brother had gotten there in the first place, or how Russia could have found him at all. "West, were you…were you in the battle?" he asked incredulously. "Is that how you got hurt?"

Gilbert looked back down at the wound and his brain registered for the first time that while it was sustain by a glancing rifle shot, it should _not _have been on his brother. He had seen so many similar wounds that his brain had just assumed that it was normal. But the boy was _not _supposed to go into the war! Why had he been out in it? He was supposed to be waiting in Paris for him.

But the child remained silent and did not speak another word. Frowning in concern, Gilbert decided to wait and let his brother speak to him when he was ready. He would not push. So, he went about cleaning and dressing the wound carefully. Ludwig did not make a sound as his brother work, but looked down at something in his hand with tears running down his eyes.

The moment Gilbert was finished, Ludwig threw himself into his brother's arms again and clung desperately to the older nation. Surprised, the albino hugged his brother and let the boy cry in his shoulder. Although he did not understand everything that had happened to his brother over the last eight years, Prussia did know that his brother had suffered and he knew that he wanted to help ease that pain any way that he could.

So that night, they did not return to the others to celebrate the victory over France. Instead, the two brothers stayed together in a private tent, taking comfort in each other's presence. While they knew that they had not been in contact for a very long time, they did know that they each needed the other now and they celebrated the fall of the French Empire quietly.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Umm…yeah…Part II. Poor Ida was killed, France was defeated, Ivan found Ludwig who found Gilbert…And Britain made his first appearance while Roderich didn't do much at the moment. -_- Yeah. So these last few chapters have been a little depressing, but things will start to brighten up now that the Napoleon crisis is over. I had Russia find Ludwig because the Russians were the big hero's of this battle. After the war Russia became very important…so yeah…

**History: **The Battle for Paris was lead mainly by Napoleon's brother, Joseph Bonaparte. While there were troops from Russia, Austria, Prussia, and even from Britain at the time, it was the Russian and Prussian armies that really were the heavy hitters. Tsar Alexander I and King Friedrich Wilhelm III were actually pretty buddy and they were the big champions of the fight, though Tsar Alexander was undoubtedly the BIG hero. But while Russia got most of the glory, coming out and stomping France, Prussia rose in status and became a very important world power.

**Side note**: While most of Europe was fighting with Napoleon at the time, Britain was also at war with America. America was still on pretty good terms with France at the time and was selling grain to Napoleon. Britain was annoyed, tried to make them stop, and their efforts basically started another war.

**French: **_Tais-toi-_ shut up!

**Russian: **_Privet- _привет- hello (informal…because who really speaks formally to a sad little kid?) _malish_-малыш- Little one. _Sladkih snov_- Сладких снов- sweet dreams

*** Seriously, DoktorZeirmit is my hero for helping with the Russian. THANKS AGAIN! :)

**German:**_ Entschuldigung-_ I'm sorry (lit. apology) _Ruhe in Frieden__- _Rest in Peace. _Danke schön-_ thank you beautifully (I KNOW this is an out of date way of saying "thank you" but it's 1814 in the story! I think I can still use it ^^ ) _Bitte- _Please. _Rheinbund- _Confederation of the Rhine.

**P.S. **I spaced the story out a little different because someone asked if I could make it easier to read…I forgot last chapter, but let me know if you like this spacing or not. I don't want to hurt all of your eyes! Thanks again everyone! :)


	15. Chapter 13: Final Warning

**Chapter Thirteen: Final Warning**

The next morning, Gilbert woke in the early, stiff and sore. The battle from the day before had taken its toll on his body, and he stretched slowly, popping joins. When he felt more awake, he came to realize that there was something lying beside him. With still sleepy eyes, he looked down to see Ludwig still sound asleep, curled up next to him in a little ball, hugging the blankets where Gilbert had been tightly in his sleep.

A tender smile found its way to the albino's lips as affection sprang into his heart. After eight long, hellish years, he'd finally gotten his little brother back. He loved the boy fiercely and he couldn't have been more pleased to have the little one back if he tried. Gently, the older nation brushed back fallen bangs from the blonde's face. The child did not stir.

Scooting away carefully, Gilbert stood and stretched again. Despite feeling sore and stiff from the battle, he somehow felt strangely light. He was ready to go, ready for anything to happen. Today was the day that they would march into Paris and finally announce to the people of France that their emperor's rein was no more. Prussia really wanted to know what had happened to France after Russia had engaged him. The massive empire had not given details, but from the menacing smile that had slipped onto the Slavic nation's lips, the albino could only assume that France was not in very good shape. It pleased Gilbert actually.

With joyous thoughts of running through the streets of Paris and terrorizing France some more in his head, Gilbert began dressing, pulling back on his filthy, blood stained uniform. It was a little stiff from sweat and dirt from the previous day, but it was not like he hadn't worn such filthy things before. In a strange way it actually calmed him a bit. When he was fighting, when he was out and about in the world was when Prussia was the most comfortable and alive. While sitting at home was nice, he really liked being out and doing something. He was not idle by nature and paper work gave him headaches. Hang the political world! At least in battle you had a clear understanding of who your enemies really were.

He was about to go out and relieve himself and perhaps check up on the men when he felt something touch his arm. Not expecting the contact, he jumped slightly and turned around, ready to fend whatever it was off, only to get lost in clear blue eyes.

Ludwig was clinging desperately to the sleeve of his uniform jacket, eyes beginning to water. It was clear that the child was still sleepy, but he seemed intent on saying whatever was running through his mind. "Don't leave me," the boy whispered, his voice sounding so small and desperate.

Any arguments that Gilbert might have given his brother about needing to do his duty or actually needing to use the bathroom died instantly at hearing how frightened the boy sounded. Not that he had had any intention of leaving his brother the moment he realized the child was awake, but hearing Ludwig's voice sounding so small and helpless only reinforced Gilbert's intentions of staying with his brother.

Instead of leaving, he sat right back down on the bedroll and smiled warmly at the little blonde. "Don't worry, West. I'm right here, all right? Your awesome _großer Bruder_ right here, just like he promised."

The night before had been rather strenuous despite being one of the happiest times in Gilbert's life. While he had gotten his brother back _and _had helped defeat the French armies, Ludwig was not quite the same child he had been before. The boy looked extremely depressed and frightened about something and the small spark in his eyes that Gilbert had been kindling when Ludwig had lived with him for the short time seemed to have gone out again. Whatever progress that Prussia had done seemed to have left the boy again and the albino knew that he was going to have to work with his brother again to build him back up.

After several minutes of whispering sweet nothings to his brother, comforting him, and lulling him back to sleep, Gilbert stood and made his way outside to take care of some "personal" business. Once that was done, he quickly scanned the camp before ordering one of his men to fetch the king. He didn't want to be too far away incase Ludwig woke again. Heavens knew the boy didn't need to be alone at the time and he certainly didn't want the child to panic, so he made sure he was near.

An hour or so passed and it proved that Gilbert's suspicions had been correct. He was speaking to Austria, Russia, and Britain just outside of his tent when the flaps were pushed open quickly and out ran Ludwig. The child's eyes were wide, but the moment he saw his brother, he ran and attached himself to Prussia's leg, not bothering to be concerned with the other nations that watched in amusement.

"Ah! Good morning, West!" Gilbert laughed, picking up his brother. "And how are you this glorious day?"

The tiny blonde answered with an unintelligible mumble and buried his face in his brother's neck. The albino, while still concerned for his brother, could not help the smile that came to his face. Truly Ludwig was one of the most adorable children he'd ever seen!...not that he'd actually been around many children, but Ludwig was certainly the best one in his opinion.

Russia beamed as he looked on the small child while Austria smiled softly. England looked torn between wanting to express amusement and believing the scene a bit distasteful. The island nation's reaction confused Gilbert, but then he and the other blonde had never really gotten on as well and he did not quite understand his ways. Perhaps it had something to do with some of his rules? But then it did not really matter to Prussia as he was just glad that he could enjoy his brother's company again at last.

"Good morning, _malish_," Russia greeted happily, his own childish smile plastered to his face. "How are you?"

At the sound of the thick accent, Ludwig managed to loosen his grip on his brother's neck enough to turn and look at his savior. It was then that the child seemed to notice the others standing with Gilbert. Although his eyes still looked incredibly sad to Prussia, he was proud that his brother swallowed up his fear to address the others. "_Guten Morgen_, _Russland_, _Österreich_." When the blue gaze landed on England, the child tilted his head slightly to the side, as though confused. "_Herr_," he greeted.

"Oh yeah," Prussia turned a bit towards the green-eyed nation so that his brother could get a better look at the man. "West, this is England. He's helped me and Austria and Russia defeat France."

"A pleasure." England bowed stiffly, too formally Gilbert thought, for the occasion. But then Britain liked formality. "And you are?"

"Well, he was the Confederation of the Rhine," Gilbert began, "but I'm not sure that title really fits him all that much anymore."

From the side, Austria actually snorted, as though highly offended. "I should say not!"

A little surprised by the strong answer, Gilbert couldn't help but snicker after. "Keseseses! Yeah, definitely not _that. _But we'll have time later to see what he turns out as. Right now, you can just call him, West."

"'West?'" Arthur repeated, raising one, thick brow. "That's more of a direction than a name. And if we were to be proper about it then he'd be northeast to me!"

"Ah, but he _is _west to me," Russia's smile was tight, showing his dislike of Britain's "proper" assessment. "West suits him much better, _da_?"

Having Russia on his side was all that Prussia needed before he grinned brightly at the island nation haughtily. "It's three against one!" he boasted playfully. Turning to the rather confused looking child in his arms, Gilbert set the boy down and took out his sword. Dramatically, the albino tapped the child on each shoulder. "You are hereby knighted 'West'!" he laughed. "Let none call you differently!"

Roderich and Arthur both rolled their eyes, not wanting to show their true amusement of the situation, while Ivan giggled, apparently pleased with the small drama. Ludwig, on the other hand, looked as though he was completely lost and something had just happened without his knowing. Apparently the boy's sense of humor had not improved greatly, or at all, in the last eight years. Gilbert decided that he'd have to help the boy loosen up a bit, learn to laugh more.

Scooping back up the thoroughly confused child, Gilbert and the others bid a brief farewell to one another so that they could make their plans for entering the city. It was decided that the rulers should enter first, next the countries, followed by the generals and then the infantry men. Tsar Alexander was the hero of the day, but Gilbert could not help but be pleased that his own Friedrich Wilhelm was also considered a true hero as well. He had come a long way since almost destroying the kingdom. Perhaps there was something to the man after all?

There was no time to waste, and so Prussia cleaned up hislittle confederation as best as he could, smiling and chatting all the while, telling his little brother about the battle along the Prussian front. There was nothing better than an old war tale, especially when it was still very fresh in the mind. It was even better when your audience did not interrupt, and Gilbert found his brother to be a rather avid listener, and was pleased.

When he had begun his talk of the battle he had been hoping to pry some information out of his brother as well, hoping to understand how the boy had gotten onto the field at all, but after a time when Ludwig did not offer any information, the albino soon forgot his goal and got lost in reciting his glorious tale. He never did get tired of bragging himself or his awesomeness that transcended time and space. After all, how could he deprive his own brother of such a joy?

**oOoOoOo**

The news was all over the city; the allied forces would soon be marching into Paris. What was worse was the fact that many of the people were _excited _about it. It seemed unreal, but it Napoleon had fallen from the peoples' favor over the last several years and the _people_ of France wanted a change. For some, there was even the unspoken fear of another revolution. It had not been to terribly long ago…

In the palace, everyone was frightened. Napoleon had abdicated, leaving his wife in charge while he fled, and with her stayed the injured France. When the nation and Joseph had come riding back into the city, bleeding, crippled, it had not taken long for the generals and rulers to become frantic with fear. Joseph Bonaparte had failed, and now Paris was no longer held by the French.

When the sun rose, it found Francis already awake, sitting up in bed, staring blankly across the room. He had been bandaged up, his wounds treated and cleaned, and despite how bitterly exhausted he was, he did not sleep. He could not. He was scared and he was not ashamed to admit it. Who wouldn't be in such a situation? Not only had the invaders gotten into his land, had been soundly beating him back for over a year, but now they were to march down his street, into his heart. Paris, _his _Paris…it was no longer his.

And so, with such thought, he did not sleep. How could he? The battle had not been the worst Francis had ever fought in, and yet, in a way, it was. He could not even stop outsiders from taking his heart. It was truly terrifying to know that such a tender piece of himself would now be in the hands of four powerful and angry nations out for revenge. It made him sick just thinking of all that they could do.

Carefully, the broken nation shifted, having to be cautious of his broken limbs and his lacerations. He was very lucky Russia hadn't killed him. The Eastern Empire was not known for his generosity or his grace, but France thanked the Lord that no one had killed him. Whatever God's reason was for turning away from the battle like that, Francis knew without a doubt that God was still with him due to the fact that he was still alive. That was the only explanation that seemed reasonable to his mind.

But Francis could not also help but thank God that this was all finally over. Of course his original idea had been that he would turn up the winner, but at least it was all over with now. France was tired of fighting, tired of the blood, tired of seeing his men dying. Ever since he had barely escaped the grasp of Russia in 1812, Francis had slowly started to wind down. War took so much out of a nation, it almost never seemed worth it in a way. It was expensive and it hurt without ever giving the guarantee of victory. War was a fickle lover, but it was always so seductive and tantalizing. It was almost sickening how beautiful it looked to nations and yet how they hated it.

When the sun began to rise, it bathed the chambers in a warm glow. It seemed almost unbearably warm and comforting, as though it were mocking Francis in a time when all he wanted to be was cold and alone. Why was this happening? What had he done wrong? His emperor had been strong, cunning, and strategic! He had followed orders to the letter and had opened himself up to Napoleon, gave the man his full support even when he had not fully agreed with the man. Francis hadn't been so open with a human since Jeanne D'arc. Perhaps he should have recalled how well _that_ had gone. But then again, Jeanne had died for him when Napoleon had simply run away…

Being alone, prey for his morbid thoughts, left Francis feeling weak and drained. He did not want to think about anything anymore. He did not want to think of the past or the future, or his many wounds, he just wanted to be, to be left in peace. Was that so much to ask for?

Although he knew he should not, the blonde shifted in his bed and decided that perhaps he should get out of his chambers. The more he sat there, the smaller the room began to seem. He wanted to get out, suddenly afraid that someone would forget about him in here.

Swinging his legs over the bed, only having one arms to steady himself, France looked across his vast room. With only one leg and one arm, it became apparent that moving about wasn't going to be an easy challenge. But all he really needed to do was get into the hall. A servant was sure to be rushing about and then he could order them to take him…somewhere, anyway, as long as it was away from here! He just did not want to be alone anymore.

Taking several deep breaths, Francis stood on one leg, balancing not only his weight, but also making sure he did not disturb any of his injuries. The moment his foot was on the ground, it became apparent to the empire that perhaps he should not have attempted this. Everything hurt. Lacerations stung and throbbed, his broken bones creaked in protest, and his skin felt as though it were being stretched too far. It was almost too much, but France was determined to get out of his room. He _needed _to get out.

As best as he could, the blonde made his way, hopping about the room on one foot. If only he'd had a cane or a crutch! It would have made things so much easier. But alas, he had no crutch, no support, and once again, he was on his own. What a bitter reminder. He didn't even care at the moment how ridiculous he must look hopping about or if anyone caught him in such an absurd act.

When it became too much, Francis stopped and sat down in a chair about halfway out of the room. Sweat ran down his face and he panted heavily, as though he'd just run ten miles without stopping. His hair fell into his eyes, sticking to his face in a most irritating way. As he tried to move the strands out of his eyes with his good hand, he froze midway through the motion. His hair…

He wanted to turn around to the mirror that he knew was just behind him, but he paused, not sure he was going to like what he saw. After another moment to prepare himself, Francis turned and his blue eyes widened with shock of what he saw. It left him speechless.

Staring back at him through the mirror was a most pathetic looking creature. Blue eyes were dully looking back at him, dark bruises under each, the face was quite pale except for the cuts and bruises it had sustained the day before. The little bit of stubble that had always adorned his chin was now growing out and looked more like a ratty beard than the playful goatee. But what truly captured Francis's attention was the tangled, messy looking blonde hair. His beautiful hair was not chopped and cut unevenly, no longer able to be pulled back. It simply hung there, just to his chin, looking whole unremarkable and disgusting.

It came as a surprise to him, his hair. He had forgotten that Russia had cut it just before the brute had set him atop a horse and sent him back into Paris to deliver the news of the allied victory. It seemed impossible that he would have forgotten such a thing, but then, he was in such agony with his other wounds. When he had made it back to the palace, he nearly fell off of his horse and he had fainted not long after he had been able to relay his message. When he had woken up, he had been in his room, and he had not rested since.

But now, as he looked at himself, Francis could no longer help himself. He began to cry. And who would not? What had happened to him, the Great France, the Mighty French Empire? There was nothing to be shown for all of his pains and struggle except a crippled body. He had nothing now, not even his honor.

And so, Francis stayed there at his vanity, staring at himself in his wretched state, wishing that he could just go back in time and change the little details, find out what he had done wrong, so that he could avoid having to enter this desolate state to begin with.

**oOoOoOo**

Gilbert sat high on his mount, excitement coursing through his veins. This was it, the moment he had been dreaming of; he was going to march into France the victor. Oh the sweetness of the day! The sun was up and shining down happily upon them, like a promise of a wonderful day. He had not been to Paris for years and he wondered how it had changed.

Sitting in front of him, Prussia looked down at his little brother fondly. The boy was quiet, but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. West, for whatever reason, seemed to be the kind of child that listened more than he spoke. It normally would not have worried Gilbert too much, but he just _knew _that there was something wrong with his brother. Ludwig should have been happy today, should have been happy last night when they had finally come back together, but the boy was not. The little blonde seemed depressed and it worried the albino. There was also the fact that Russia kept glancing in the child's direction as well that set off Gilbert's warnings as well. It could be nothing, but whenever Russia was involved it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Can you believe that you'll be marching into Paris as a conquering hero, West?" Gilbert asked, trying to brighten the boy's mood.

Little Ludwig did not respond right away, making Prussia wish he could have seen the child's face. "No," at last a quiet answer was given.

Trying his best to think of something to capture the child's attention or enthusiasm, the kingdom looked around him. The kings were up ahead and the men were behind them. To the side of him rode Roderich, Arthur, and Ivan, all of them looking a different shade of pleased. Russia wore his customary smile, but there was a gleam of real delight in his features today, making him look not quite as cold as he usually was. Next to him, Austria was riding on in his usual prideful manner, looking like he had a stick shoved up his ass, Gilbert thought. And Arthur looked downright malicious with his smug smirk resting menacingly upon his lips. Everyone knew that France and Britain were great rivals, but the albino wondered just what the Englishman would do after fighting so bitterly after eight years. Judging by that smile on the blonde's lips, the kingdom could tell it wasn't going to be pleasant for the Frenchman.

"I always seem to forget how warm French weather is," Ivan remarked, breaking the silence casually, relieving Prussia of the responsibility of thinking up something to say.

"Yes, it can be quite pleasant here," Roderich nodded. "The south is very lovely this time of year. But I, for one, cannot wait to get back home."

A wicked smiled slipped onto Gilbert's mouth. "That's just because you can't wait to start banging Elizabeta again," he laughed.

"_Halt die Schnauze!_" the Austrian snapped, turning bright red…which in turn, only made Gilbert laugh harder.

"Please!" Arthur growled, looking suddenly very put out. "You would both honestly speak that way in front of a child?"

Next to him, Ivan chuckled. "Ah, you should not concern yourself so much, _Angliya_. Germans are known for the tempers, not their manners."

Again, Gilbert laughed while Roderich looked extremely insulted. "And Russians are known for their snow, not their wit," Austria growled back.

"That is true," Russia nodded, his smile turned a bit frosty. "Unfortunate that the world does not know more about the true Russian intellect. I am afraid that if they did, they would be unable to comprehend the genius it really is."

"Oh please," Roderich rolled his eyes.

"Keseseseses!" the Prussian was almost falling off his horse as he grabbed at his sides. "P-Please! Stop it! Keseseseses! It h-hurts to laugh!" His cackling rang out over the armies.

"Honestly," Arthur snorted. "You all are setting a terrible example for the boy."

Looking down at his brother, the albino met two clear blue eyes staring up at him. The kingdom smiled down merrily at the boy. "West knows that we're just having a little fun, don't you, West?"

The boy frowned, up at his older brother as though he were trying to solve a very difficult problem. After a pause, Ludwig seemed to give up trying to solve a mystery and asked his brother in a seriousness that only small children can achieve, "_Bruder, _why would Austria be banging on Elizabeta?"

After a moment of disbelief, the innocent question was met with howls of laughter. Both Russia and Prussia lost it completely and were laughing so hard that they were crying, while England was trying his very best not to be amused, which ended up failing before he was in no better shape than the other two. Austria, poor man, looked horrified and his face had gone completely scarlet as he seemed to be at a loss of what exactly he should say to that.

When everyone had calmed down a bit, the four nations realized that their leaders and the men, were all staring at them oddly before they continued on with their march. It took another few minutes for everyone to try and stop snickering, but every time they looked at either Roderich or Ludwig, they'd begin to giggle again. Once the three nations were calm, though still unable to keep the smiles off their faces, Gilbert only just managed to get out a, "I'll tell you when you're older," before he had to bite down on his tongue to suppress his mirth.

Austria, still red with humiliation, would not look at the others. "Grow up," he growled.

Gilbert and the others might have started laughing again had they not been literally before the gates of Paris. When the immense gates opened, the nations were brought out of the fun by a mass of cheering people. It was the most unreal thing that ever happened to the kingdom, as he lost interest with the conversation and instead found himself wide-eyed staring at the throng of people cheering for them. _Them_, the allies, who had been fighting _against _their emperor and their soldiers!

"Wow," Ludwig whispered, summing up everything that Gilbert felt at that moment.

"You said it," he mumbled, not knowing if his brother could hear him.

Together, the triumphant forces rode on, the people of Paris waving and shouting at them, smiles on every face. They called out phrases such as, "Long live Alexander! Long live the Allies!" or "We've been waiting for you for a long time!" To Prussia, it was simply incredible. The people of Paris had completely turned against Bonaparte. It was a bit of a shock for the albino really. He would feel absolutely terrible if his own people had so betrayed him like this. What was France feeling at this moment? It was certainly nothing he didn't deserve! …but still.

Tsar Alexander, however, was eating up all the praise and glory, Russia long with him. For once, though, Prussia didn't mind that the direct praise was being given elsewhere. After all, Russia had been forced to burn down his own capital, his very heart. Such sacrifices should be recognized and praised. And Gilbert could still be very proud of his own people. They we just as much heroes as the Russians. They had proven their strength and showed the world that Prussia was a state to be reckoned with.

While it was good to at least see that the majority of the people were not hostile towards them, the albino still couldn't help but wish he'd been able to convince the Tsar and Russia into burning down Paris. An eye for an eye, that's how the kingdom saw it. But then again, their kindness seemed to have been rewarded with this great fanfare. Still, it would have set a nice example to anyone else that thought they could take control over _him_.

The large procession managed to make it to the palace and there, the royals and the nations dismounted. When Gilbert was on the ground, he carefully took his brother and carried him back into the place of his imprisonment for the past eight years. He felt the boy stiffen in his arms and sniffle before he hugged the older nation around the neck. Had it really been so bad being in Paris these past eight years? Gilbert would have dearly loved to know, but as he began walking with the others, he caught a glimpse of Russia looking at Ludwig. A flash of pity crossed the normally composed features of the eastern nation for just an instant before he turned his attention back to the matter at hand and followed his Tsar. It was a curious thing, but Prussia also had his responsibilities and had to follow his king.

Servants were scurrying around everywhere, all of them looking panicked. "_Rossiya,_" the Tsar turned to the large empire. "Perhaps you should find _Frantsiya_. Hopefully you did not hurt him too badly."

The ruler raised an eyebrow at his nation, to which Russia simply smiled. "I did not kill him like you requested, my lord."

The Tsar didn't seem all that impressed, but nodded all the same. While the victorious leaders began looking about, the countries went in search of France. Finding the country's persona was generally their job, what their leaders left in their care. The palace was huge, and no one really knew where to look first.

"Bloody bastard could be hiding anywhere in here," Britain muttered, scowling. "We can't waste all day looking in room after room. We should split up and search. You said you broke one of his leg for sure, Russia?"

"_Da_," the empire looked quite pleased with himself over the fact.

"Very well. He can't run, at least," England nodded. "I say we all split up. I'll go search the northern half of the palace. Russia, you go to the east. Austria, you take the south, and Prussia—"

"His chambers are in the western wing."

The four adults turned their attention to Ludwig, who peeked out of his brother's grasp. They had all nearly forgotten that the boy was there until then, he had been so quiet. But when they looked to the child, they found themselves frozen by hate-filled eyes. "I could show you," the boy offered.

Still a bit stunned, all they could do was stare for a moment. "Y-yes. Yes," Roderich said more firmly. "That would be very nice, _kleiner. _Please show us to his chamber or anywhere else you might think he would be."

Reluctantly, Gilbert set down his brother and the child began walking off in the direction in which France's chambers must be. The adults followed on, each feeling a bit useless as the boy led them. It took several minutes before they finally came to a stop.

"In here," Ludwig pointed to large double doors.

Russia and Britain walked in front of the boy while Prussia drew his sword, just in case. Roderich picked up the child. Ivan and Arthur threw open the doors while Gilbert jumped forward immediately, sword at the ready. "Come out you cowardly bastard!" he yelled, ready for a fight.

But to the albino's disappointment, no fight came. Instead, he lowered his weapon when Austria touched his shoulder and nodded towards the window. Sitting in a chair, staring at himself in a mirror, was France. The defeated empire did not say a word, nor did it look like he particularly cared that intruders had broken in.

It was a rather tense moment, making Gilbert feel strangely before the spell was broken by Arthur's laughter. "My God, France! What happened to your hair!" he guffawed. "Did you get your head stuck in a plow or something?"

The other did not move, nor did he speak, even after the Englishman's laughter subsided. Calmly, Prussia took in the sight of the man hopelessly searching for a different image in his mirror. In all honesty, Francis looked like he'd been sent to hell and back in the Satan's own carriage. Russia had not been lying when he had told them that he'd managed to rough France up. No, that seemed to be the understatement of the age. A man who fell off of a beer wagon and got run over by his team would have looked better than the fallen empire before them looked!

"I like his hair that way," Ivan said lightly, his smile sweetening. "I think it suits him. Makes him look like the filthy dog he really is."

"Of course you do, _mon ami_," France finally spoke, turning around to face the others as best as he could. "You were the one who graciously gave me this new cut, were you not?"

Russia beamed, but said nothing in response. The Frenchmen looked around him, seeing who had all come to humiliate him further, when his eyes landed on Austria, who was holding the little boy. Blue eyes darkened as France took in the sight of the child.

"Ah, I see you have found your way back into German company, _mon petit_. Good for you," he said offhandedly. "Run off to find your big brothers, I suppose. I'd been wondering where you were hiding."

Unable to let the opportunity go, Gilbert step forward, grinning cockily. "_Ja_, he found us. Thank the good Lord that he found his way back into _decent _society, eh? I can't imagine what kind of things he's seen living in this shit-hole the past eight years."

France's face constricted, looking as though he were trying very hard not to rise to the bait. "Indeed," he nodded. "Well, I have no problems with you taking the little devil. He was a monster; a true barbarian like yourself, _Prusse_. Are you proud?"

Gilbert barked out a harsh laugh. "Of course I am!" he grinned viciously. "Thank God I found him before you did initially. Who knows how he would have turned out had I not?"

The injured empire snorted and turned away from the albino to consider the child. As the two regarded each other, there was clearly a very obvious dislike radiating between them. Angry tears were streaming down Ludwig's face while France seemed to flinch slightly at the cold glare, but did not look away. An understanding of sorts pasted between the two before Francis turned to gaze at the others in the room.

"Well gentlemen, it seems that you have won this war," he drawled. "Do what you will. It's not like I can stop you now."

"That's it then?" Britain demanded. "You're just giving in like that? How very dull of you," he sneered.

"_Oui_, _mon ami_. For you see, I am tired of this war." As if to emphasize his statement, France sighed as he held up his mangled arm. "My emperor has abdicated and has left me here alone. Not that I am surprised. I am rather insulted, however, that he left me to fight under the command of an ass." He sighed again. "But what can be done? _C'est la vie_."

Gilbert found France's easy surrender a disappointment. He had been hoping for some sort of retaliation, not just this clear acceptance. But then, the other nation had gone through a rough patch the last several years. It really should not have been so shocking that he was tired, especially with the rumors—which now seemed to be confirmed—that the people of France were becoming sick of their emperor.

The four victors looked between themselves for a moment before they all decided silently that they should go and find their leaders, explain that France was theirs to do with as they saw fit. But as they turned to go, the Frenchman spoke out again. "A word of caution, if I may."

The allies stopped and turned back to the defeated nation. France smiled at them like a father warning his sons who were going out into the world for the first time. "I would be very careful with that little one there," he nodded towards Ludwig again. "He will bring hell to you all, just like he has brought hell to me."

Outraged, Gilbert scowled at the other, and prepared to charge forward to strike the impudent wretch that dare speak out of turn, when he felt a hand on his arm. Turning, he found himself staring at Roderich, who was shaking his head. He was about to argue again when he saw his little brother looking very pale and frightfully ill. Taking his brother into his arms, Gilbert glared one last time at France before he turned and walked out of the chambers with his little brother.

France had no idea what he was talking about. Ludwig was not going to be any trouble; he was good. He was a blessing! And yet still the empire's words sat wrong with Gilbert, making his stomach churn uncomfortably and as he peered down at his brother, it appeared that the warning upset the boy as well.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well…I survived the first week of classes. Hurray! Hope you all are getting back into the swing of things as well after the long holidays. Just a note, Arthur's behavior towards Ludwig stems more from the fact that he doesn't want to be reminded of America, and every time he see the boy, he thinks back to the time when Alfred had been sweet and little. He also can't help but want the others to set a better example, again, because he's remembering a time when Alfred had been little.

**History: **Tsar Alexander really was a gracious man after winning the war. The Prussians really did try to convince him to burn down Paris just like Moscow had been burned down, but the Tsar refused and did not have Joseph Bonaparte killed, but sent him back into Paris like a messenger. When they did march into Paris, it was with the Tsar in front, followed closely by King Friedrich Wilhelm III, and then a Schwarzenberg representative that stood in the place of the Emperor of Austria. The marched into the city at 11 a.m. Also, there really were a crowd of people cheering for them, really saying things like, "What took you so long?" And, one last thing here, when France refers to being left under the control of an "ass," that's really how the people thought of Joseph. They really called him a great ass.

You all should know the foreign language I use in here by now, but a quick reminder for a few words:

**German: **_Halt die Schnauze! –_ (lit.) Stop the snout! (an extremely rude way to say "shut up!")

**French: **_C'est la vie- _That's life.

** And an extra thanks to Nemhaine42 for helping me brain storm a part of this. ^^ THANKS!

**Next Up: **Austria and Prussia figure out what they want to do with the old Confederation. And very soon Ludwig will make a new friend. :) There should also be more brother fluff again soon.

Thanks again for all the reviews, favorites, and story alerts! You guys are awesome!


	16. Chapter 14: Protecting the Innocent

**Chapter Fourteen: Protecting the Innocent**

Riding home after a spectacular victory under his belt, Gilbert decided that he deserved a nice rest before he started anymore fights. The whole campaign against France the past year had been tremendously successful and his considerable ego had been slaked very nicely. He was just too awesome for words and he loved basking in the radiant beams of victory.

"We should all throw a huge party when we get back," he said to no one in particular. "Wouldn't that be awesome? We could have beer and singing and beer and women…and beer."

"Honestly, _Preußen_," Roderich snorted. "I'm beginning to believe England was right. Can you not set a better example for West?"

Looking down at the smaller nation, the albino found the child sitting quietly like he normally did. Ludwig never complained about anything since he had been taken away from Paris. Instead, the little boy would simply hug his stuffed puppy to his chest ardently and silently look out at the land that they passed through. It was a little disconcerting for Gilbert to watch his sad little brother, and it bothered him that the child had yet to confide in him about his apparent depression. Whatever it was did not seem to have to do directly with France, but there was something else that clearly outweighed everything else in the boy's mind at the moment. But as to what could cause such great sorrow was lost to him. After all, Ludwig had _him_ now, why would he be sad?

But not wanting to let his anxiousness show, Gilbert snorted, hiding his concern with a brilliant mask of flippancy. "West knows I'm just having some fun. Besides, he _is _German after all. What kind of good German doesn't like beer?"

"The kind that hardly stands to your knee," Austria growled. "Now, please at least _try _to set a better example for him. I would like to introduce him to my emperor without having to fear what he might say."

At that, Ludwig actually looked a bit insulted while Gilbert just laughed. To the side of them, Ivan smiled on, not much affected by any of the Germans' chatter. The Russian had been in an uncommonly good mood lately and it made the other two nations a bit nervous. Why was he so happy? It didn't matter much in the long run, because if Russia was contented, it generally boded well for others.

"I would very much like to hear the child say something shocking," the empire giggled. "I am sure it would be quite entertaining, _da_?"

While Roderich continued to scowl, Gilbert went on snickering. Russia was usually a pain in the ass, but the last few years Prussia had to admit that the eastern empire really wasn't _so _bad. At least he'd massacred France. But perhaps what was more important was the fact that he'd brought back Ludwig, and for that, Gilbert knew he'd be eternally grateful.

The troop rode on until night. Setting up camp was a quick ordeal, everyone had gotten quite good at it the past several years or so. And when it got dark, the four countries and the little confederation sat around the fire, eating their meals. It might have been a rather silent affair had Gilbert not been there. The albino seemed adamant in creating noise and refused to let the silence cover the night. That was one thing Prussia had never really cared for anyway, silence. People were quiet when they lost battles or when they were dead. While alive, he believed that you should at least have a little fun and let the Lord know that you at least _liked _being alive, because who knew when you'd go?

"—and then I said to him, 'Hey, you cock-sucking bastard, you can't talk to the awesomeness that is _me_ like that!' And then, you know what he said?"

"For the love of all that is good, right, and decent, would you _kindly _close your mouth?" Austria snapped, turning red in the face. "Do you realized that you haven't stopped talking since you got off your horse? Do you realize that?" his eyes were large, reflecting his fury and disbelief.

Gilbert stared at the other nation blankly, clearly not understanding what he had done to deserve the pianist's wrath. "So? But seriously, Roderich, do you know what he said to me?"

"Enough!" the Austrian growled. "Enough of all of this! This is certainly _not _the type of language that the boy needs to be hearing. Have a little decency around him!"

"I told you a million times before, West doesn't care!" the Prussian rolled his eyes dramatically. "He knows that this is just a story…a completely awesome, amazing story as it is being told by none other than the glorious Prussia!"

"Truly, I'm about a minute away from stuffing your hat down your throat!" the brunette threatened darkly.

"I would very much like to see that," Ivan chirped from the sidelines, smiling brightly. It was always enjoyable to listen to the two Germans banter back and forth like this. In Russia, people rarely fought like this, preferring either to fight physically as opposed to verbal spares or they remained quiet, took the abuse and then went around and killed the other person later on in secret. Germans, it seemed to the other nation, yelled just for the sake of yelling, and it amused him.

"Hey!" Gilbert yelped indignantly. "Whose side are you on anyway?"

"The winner's," the Russian replied merrily, causing the other two nations to roll their eyes.

Another round of sparing was about to ensue—because Gilbert couldn't possibly let the other two get away with ruining his story!—but all thought of fighting fled quickly when the three men noticed a little blonde head bobbing up and down. They had almost completely forgot about Ludwig's presence until the child had hopped out of his brother's lap and preceded to put his bowl away and began stacking the other finished dishes away.

"You don't have to clean up after us, West!" A quick flare of guilt shot through the albino as he watched the child tidy the camp as best as he could, like a little maid.

The little blonde turned around to look up at his brother, confusion dancing in his eyes along with the firelight. "But it's messy," he said simply and began cleaning once more.

Roderich and Ivan seemed to appreciate the child's sanitation a bit more that Prussia, and although Gilbert really _did _like it best when everything was organized and clean, he didn't want his brother to think that all the cleaning up was his job alone. Was that what France had made him do? Clean up like some sort of servant? Prussia knew that Austria made his portion of Italy into a maid, always making Veneziano tidy up everything. And yet thinking of the other young nation doing such chores did not infuriate Gilbert at all while thinking of his brother being so demoted enraged him. _No _son of Germania should be disgraced like that!

But before Gilbert could protest again, his brother had all the dishes already taken away and was stacking them carefully. He was quite efficient as he worked, and did not waste time to look up at the others staring at him. It actually made the kingdom wonder if his brother was doing it out of habit, having been forced to work under France or if he did it simply because he wanted to. But what kind of little kid _liked _cleaning the dishes away?

When the boy was finished, the albino didn't hesitate to snatch up his little brother and sit him in his lap. "Good little boys deserve a story for all their hard work!" he proclaimed, kissing the top of the boy's head.

Ludwig when ridged under the kiss, and it worried Gilbert, but before he could ask what was wrong, Austria began speaking. "That's right," he nodded approvingly, smiling fondly at the child. "You must be rewarded for your troubles. What type of story would you like to hear? And _no _Gilbert, not one of _your _stories," he added dryly.

"I didn't even say anything!" the northern kingdom protested.

"I know you were thinking of it," Roderich huffed. "So," he turned back to Ludwig, smiling again. "What kind of fairytale would you like to hear?"

"I-I've heard a lot of German tales," the boy said quietly. It worried his brother. Ludwig had always loved stories, even when he was still Holy Rome. There was something terribly wrong with the boy, of that Gilbert was certain, and made up his mind that he was going to get to the bottom of it _tonight_.

"Then you shall have to tell us which one's you've heard," the burette went on, unaware of the child's distress. "Or," he perked up with a thought, "if he is willing, we could make use of Russia and we could ask him to tell you a tale from the east."

The temptation of hearing a foreign tale was too great for the boy, and he perked up as well. While it was good to see that his brother's interest could still be roused, he still worried Gilbert. But while the boy seemed interested in the idea, Russia seemed ecstatic at the opportunity.

"_Da, da! _Of course I shall tell you a tale!" Ivan absolutely beamed, and before anyone could blink their eyes, he snatched Ludwig out of Prussia's arms and settled the child into his lap.

"Hey!" Gilbert exclaimed.

"Hush, _Prussiya_," Ivan pressed his finger to his lips, pouting just a bit. "I am trying to think of a story to tell!"

While Prussia muttered at this, crossing his arms in annoyance, Ivan sat back, a smile slipped easily back onto his lips. Whether it was consciously done or not, the big empire began gently patting the child's back as he flipped through the files of his memory to locate a suitable story. It appeared that the Russian had not been called to relate any Russian fairytales for quite some time.

But when his mind settled at one, his amethyst eyes glowed brightly, and his smile widened. "Ah!" he exclaimed before bending over so that he could take a better look at the child in his lap. "Have you ever heard of a story called, _The Bear_?"

"_Nein_," Ludwig shook his head, unable to hide his growing curiosity.

"Then I shall tell you!" Russia smiled radiantly as the other two adults settled in for the tale. "There once was an old man and his old wife who had no children," Ivan began, his eyes cheerful. "One day, the old woman said to her husband, 'Old man, go get some wood.' The old man went, but while he was out, he met a bear who said, 'Old man, let's fight.'"

That was the line that had hooked Ludwig and he sat on Russia's knee, staring up at the empire with wide blue eyes. Gilbert had to smile at the scene, but could not help thinking that it might have been sweeter if Russia hadn't been the one holding the boy. But then again, at the moment, Ivan looked almost like a child himself, his eyes nearly as big as the boy's as he took great delight in telling the story.

"And so," the empire went on, "the old man took his ax and cut off one of the bear's paws! He returned home with it and ordered his wife to skin it and cook it. She took the paw and removed all of the skin, placed it under her, and began plucking out the fur while cooking the paw on the stove.

"Now, as you can imagine, _malish, _the bear was not at all pleased that his paw had been taken, so he roared and roared before he finally thought over the situation. He then carved himself a new paw out of a lime wood tree and hobbled to the old man's house while singing:

_Creak, my paw,_

_Creak, limewood!_

_The water sleeps,_

_And the earth sleeps,_

_The villagers sleep;_

_Only one woman is awake,_

_Sitting on my skin,_

_Spinning my fur,_

_Cooking my flesh!_"

As Russia sang, the whole camp seemed to still, and ever hair on the back of Gilbert's neck stood on end as he listened to the creepy song float hauntingly through the air. The tune seemed harmless enough, but the words held a sort of bite to them that was truly frightening, especially when sung by Russia himself! Next to him, Austria was also leaning forward, ensnared by the story while Ludwig continued to stare up at the large man with impossibly round eyes.

While Ivan still smiled faintly, he looked down at the child with eyes shining with the same interest and wonder. It seemed he liked very much being the storyteller for once, and he basked in the radiance of his little audience member's attention. "And when they heard the song, the old man and his old wife were terrified!" he went on. "The man hid himself on the shelf and covered himself with a trough, and the woman hid on the stove and covered herself with black shirts.

"The bear entered the room." The three Germans all unconsciously held their breaths. "And from fear, the old man groaned under the trough, and the old woman coughed under the shirts. And then—"everyone was on the edge of their seats as Russia paused dramatically "—the bear found them and ate them. The end!" he concluded abruptly, smiling like a fool.

The three Germans sat very still for a moment, different shades of horror written plainly across their faces as they stared at the Russian incredulously. "What the hell kind of crazy story was that?" Prussia exploded after a moment, quickly seizing his brother away from the clearly crazed Russian.

"What?" the empire asked, looking shocked and slightly offended, like he honestly did not understand why anyone would be angry.

"Well, _Russland_," Austria cleared his throat, while sitting up a bit straighter. "Ah, well, normally when we tell children a story, there is some sort of-of moral or lesson at the end of a story…not just tell them an elderly couple got eaten by a bear and that's the end of it."

"There was a moral at the end of my story!" Ivan protested, his face taking on a darker look to it in offence.

Cuddling his brother closer, as though hoping to ward off any mental scarring, Gilbert scowled over at the larger man. "Yeah? And what kind of '_moral_' do you see at the end of that?"

Sitting up stiffly, squaring his shoulders, Ivan stared down his nose at the other two nations before him haughtily. "Isn't it obvious? If you meet a talking bear in the woods who wants to fight you, you should always kill it so it doesn't come back to eat you."

The reply was given with such seriousness that the two German kingdoms nearly fell over from disbelief. "Seriously?" the albino continued to stare in astonishment. "That's it? That's the only lesson to be learned from this? What is _wrong _with you? The man and woman were supposed to be the heroes of the story! And then you just end it like that? I mean, that's it? They're just eaten and the bear goes on his merry way?"

"The bear was a victim," Russia pressed. "He was the one that got his paw cut off."

"That doesn't matter!" Prussia yelled. "He's the one that wanted the fight! _Augh_! You know what, whatever. I'm going to get West ready for bed and tell him a _proper _bedtime story." As he stood, he glared over at Russia.

"But that was a perfectly fine story," Ivan tried one last time. "I've heard your stories and they are no better!"

"Yeah, well, at least they have a real lesson at the end…and a real plot," Gilbert snorted. "Now, goodnight."

As he walked away, hugging his brother close, the child managed to peek out of his brother's protective grasp enough to look back at the other two men sitting by the fire. "Goodnight!" he mimicked his brother. "Thank you for the story, _Russland_."

And once more, the empire was smiling again, all anger gone. "You are very well, _malish_. _Sladkih snov!_"

Gilbert hurried his steps after that, not wanting the insane empire to follow them. While it was polite of Ludwig to thank the other nation, Prussia still saw the horror on his brother's face from the end of the story. The poor boy didn't need to hear something like that right now.

Right now, however, the albino wanted to find out what was wrong with his little brother once and for all.

**oOoOoOo**

After the two brothers were away, Austria turned back to find Russia still smiling after the pair. "That was fun." His voice was pleasant and reflecting good humor. "Goodnight!" he said abruptly as he stood and walked away, leaving the Austrian to himself.

Roderich sat a moment more, staring into the fire, his mind suddenly spinning with the day's events. He snorted at all of the shenanigans that had occurred, all of the bickering and the bantering between the three of them. While both Gilbert and Ivan could make anyone want to pull their own teeth out, Roderich had to admit, he'd had some fun today. Especially seeing Gilbert's outraged face after Russia's story. He sincerely hoped that now the albino would watch what he said to the boy from now on. Maybe that story had shocked some more caution into him. It was not very likely, but Roderich could always dream.

Naturally, following his thoughts of Prussia, Austria's mind went to the boy. The child was so different than he remembered. Oh sure, he still looked very much the same as when he was Holy Rome, and yet his attitude was fundamentally different now. West was so much quieter than his previous self, and he seemed much grimmer. It actually made Roderich sad to see that the boy's fire had been diminished so.

Standing up with a sigh, the kingdom decided that it was probably time for him to retire for the evening as well. As he walked on, his mind still buzzing with thought, the Austrian's thoughts turned towards home and what it would be like for West to return there. Would he remember the house? Probably not. Thus far he had not remembered anything, not Austria, not Prussia, so why would he remember a house when he could not even recall a nation? But suddenly, Roderich recalled someone else that the boy had gotten to be close with…

He marched straight to his tent and when he got there, Austria went straight to his desk and pulled out parchment and a pen. It took him only a minute to compose his thoughts in his head before he set his pen down and began his letter. Once he was finished, the nation looked over his writing, read through it to make sure that he had been clear in his instructions, before he deemed it worthy of sending. Once it was to his satisfaction, he stood and took it to a messenger to ride on ahead of the party and onto Austria. Only when the rider was out of sight, message safely away did Roderich sigh in relief.

Walking back to his tent, the Austrian found that he was once again troubled. He had been concern with Napoleon for so long he had not properly thought out what was to be done with the German states. Of course there was going to have to be a meeting to decide that very thing, but at the same time, even as Roderich was concerned with what would happen to West, he was also worried about what would happen in his own house. He was troubled about how the boy's arrival would be taken when he was introduced to the others living at the house.

Once back into his tent, Roderich sighed again before he changed for bed. He knew that soon his time was going to be spent juggling his people around and filled with debate over the boy. While he had wanted to get the German states back on his side and away from France as quickly as he could, now Austria could not help but feel tired, feeling as though the responsibility had been forced upon him rather quickly. But that was all irrelevant anyway. His boss would figure something out, come to an agreement with the Prussian and Russian. He always did.

As he lain down to sleep, setting his glasses down carefully on the portable desk, Roderich closed his eyes and prayed that sleep would claim him quickly. It did not, however, and he was left to dwell in thought and memory. He felt exhausted, yet sleep slipped through his grasp cunningly, and when he wasn't paying attention, his conscience caught up with him again and he began to think of his letter and of Italy.

What would Veneziano think of his letter? Roderich had written to Elizabeta instructing her to send the little Italian girl back to Italy for a time, to reconnect with her people, but with the firm instructions of reporting back to him if there were any changes in her peoples' dealings. The arrangement was rather sudden and Austria was not known for sending his help away on such short notice, but Veneziano was such a sweet, carefree sort of girl, and he hoped she would not discover his true motives for sending her away so quickly.

The truth was that Austria did not want his Italy at home once be brought home the heir of the Holy Roman Empire. How painful would it be for the girl to come into the house only to discover the boy that had once been Holy Rome? How much more painful would it be for her when she discovered that her old friend did not remember her at all? Questions would be asked, feelings would be hurt as it became apparent that her friend was no longer the same boy and that he was, in all honestly, a different person. He could not put her through that, not after she had only just begun to get over the loss of Holy Rome several years ago.

When he closed his eyes, Roderich could see the day he had told her the bad news…

_Roderich sat stiffly in his chair as he waited. He felt heavy, like someone had tied stone to his limbs, yet he remained upright staring straight ahead. His throat felt tights and his tongue heavy, and with each passing heartbeat he was certain he'd break down and fall to the ground, sobbing. But he could not do that, could never lose his cool like that. Especially in a time of great worry and distress. _

_The door opened suddenly, and a tiny head popped in looking about uncertainly. "Come in, Veneziano." His voice sounded unusually flat to his ears, reflecting the weight he felt. _

_The little servant girl jumped slightly, before she came through the door fully and began walking tentatively towards her boss. She was looking down at the floor, looking like she confused and worried. Did she think she was in trouble? Silly girl._

"Sì, signor Austria_?" she asked gently. _

_Hearing her little voice nearly undid Roderich. It was like those three, innocent words had pushed all the air from his lungs, leaving him breathless and dizzy. His tongue felt like it had swollen three times its normal size and he became afraid he would choke. But no, he could not show his own thoughts, he had to remain the imposing figure, the strong leader. That's what everyone expected, so that's what he had to do._

"_Did you see those men that had come here this morning?" he asked softly, staring intently at the girl before him._

"Sì, signor Austria,_" she nodded before she paused. "What were they here for?"_

_Austria viciously bit the inside of his cheek even as he clenched his jaw. This was going to be hard…it shouldn't have to be this hard! "Do you remember the Holy Roman Empire?" he asked instead, hoping to come up with a better way of explaining to the soft-hearted girl what had really happened. _

_At those words, amber eyes shot up and looked at Roderich, sparkling so brightly that it hurt to look at. Those exciting, trusting eyes glistened hopefully up at him and twisted the knife in his heart all the more painfully. "Holy Rome?" she asked, beginning to bounce with anticipation. "_Sì, sì! _I remember him! Is he coming home soon? Is that what the men were here for? Did they tell you when he is coming home?" _

_What had he done? It was painful to look down into the little face before him. What had he done? He had not meant to give the girl such hope! He had not meant to trick her into believing that his brother was returning! The guilt along with his initial pain was overwhelming. He suddenly could not breathe as his own sorrow washed over him. He stood up swiftly and walked towards the window. _

_If he'd scared Italy with his sharp movement, he did not care at the moment. He needed to breathe, and so he opened up his window. "Please sit down in my chair, Veneziano," he commanded, leaning forward heavily on his desk as he stared out the window and into the beautiful day. How dare the day be so bright when he was so wretched! _

_It took several minute to control himself and lock away any tears that had very nearly broken lose, but at last, Roderich turned around to find his confused little territory sitting in his chair obediently, looking concerned. "_Signor?_" _

_Setting his jaw once more, Austria walked before the girl and just stood there, looking down at her, hoping she wouldn't notice the tears behind his glasses. "Those men came here today to tell me something very important, _Italien_," his voice came out unusually calm and even. "They also needed me to sign a document."_

_The girl looked puzzled, but held her peace. She had still not figured it out then? What an innocent little creature!_

_Sighing, Austria got down on his knees and stared into the girl's eyes, taking her tiny hands in his. "_Italien_," he said gently. "I…" he faltered. "I'm afraid…afraid that Holy Roman Empire will never be coming back."_

"_Wh-what?" tears suddenly clouded the girl's amber eyes. _

_Taking a deep breath, Roderich closed his eyes against the flash of pain he felt and tried to steady his shaking hands. "I…The men came here to have me sign the paper work for Holy Roman Empire's dissolution… I-I'm afraid that my emperor has dissolved Holy Roman Empire…for good."_

_Large tears sprung out of Veneziano's eyes as she stared at her boss in horrified disbelief. Her body began to tremble, and she began shaking her head in mute denial. "_No, non è vero!" _she whispered_. "Non può essere vero!"

"_I am so sorry, _Italien_," Roderich choked, feeling tears prick the corner of his eyes as well. "Y-you know that he's been sick for a long time—"_

"_No!" the girl cried out and completely dissolved into tears. "Oh Holy Rome!" she wept. _

_Elizabeta came in soon after that, tear stains on her face. She had come into the room while the talks were being held that morning and had quickly fled soon after she had heard the news of Holy Roman Empire. But she had come back again, having gotten over the initial wave of grief, to find her husband kneeling before the hysterical Veneziano. _

_Her warm green eyes seemed to understand Roderich's own inner turmoil, and so, she walked towards the sobbing child and picked up the Italian and held her close. Roderich had never felt more relieved to see Elizabeta in his life and he nodded at her, holding his breath in hopes that if would stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. It did not work. _

_Smiling while also crying, Hungary nodded and walked out of the room with Veneziano, somehow understanding that her husband needed to be alone. And the moment the door closed behind the two girls, Roderich lost it completely. He gasped for breath and began crying like a little child, not caring anymore. He curled up on the floor and simply wept, not having the energy to do anything else. And so he was left alone with his grief and guilt; guilt for not only having to cause Italy pain, but for having been the one to kill his own brother…_

Roderich sat up in his cot, hugging his pillow tightly to his chest. He had not wanted to recall that memory. He'd wanted to forget about it the moment it had occurred, but it never left him. But it had not turned out so bad, had it? After all, his brother Gerwig was alive, was he not? And he would soon begin to amass his own strength again, Roderich was sure.

And yet Austria remained feeling sorry for his poor Italian territory. He could not imagine how heartbroken she would be if she ever met West to find that he no longer remembered or cared for her. West was so different from Holy Roman Empire that it would still be like Gerwig was dead to her. Why cause her such unnecessary pain of seeing him?

With that thought in his head, Roderich closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. He was doing the right thing by keeping West away from Veneziano. He just knew it. Things would be better this way. One day they would meet again on even grounds, one not knowing the other, and if West's new personality meshed well with Veneziano's, well then they could be friends again.

As sleep came over him, Roderich just prayed that he was really doing the right thing.

**oOoOoOo**

Once away from the crazed Russian and Austria, Gilbert got his little brother ready for bed. The child always flat out refused to allow his brother to change him— which was actually just as well with the albino!—but he always did like combing through his brother's hair. Not that he had an actual comb or anything with him, but he liked to card his hands through the boy's soft hair and pretend that there were a few stubborn strands that would not go down just so he could keep touching the silky locks.

When the boy was ready for bed, Gilbert tucked him in snuggly into his blankets and kissed the boy on the top of the head. Once more the child stiffened and nearly pulled away like the kiss had burned. Scowling, Prussia found that he could no longer take it.

"West, what's wrong with you?" he asked bluntly, his voice sharp with anxiety and hurt. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

Blue eyes filled up with tears and looked away from his brother. "I-I don't w-want to," Ludwig mumbled.

"What? Why not?" Gilbert asked, worry nearly causing him to panic. What was it that was causing his brother so much pain? "Tell me, West."

"I-I can't," the boy sniffled.

"Why?" Prussia demanded. "Why can't you tell me?"

"Because you won't love me anymore if I do!"

Everything went still after that and the two brothers sat staring at each other. Ludwig was crying by now, tears rolling down his round cheeks even as Gilbert looked shocked by the proclamation. They were both very still before the albino lunged forwards and took his brother in his arms, hugging him fiercely.

"How could you say that, Ludwig?" he asked, genuinely hurt. "I'll-I'll always love you! You're my little brother, and it doesn't matter _what _you do, I'll always stand by you and love you, you got that? Always."

Ludwig was crying so hard now that he was nearly hyperventilating, but he clung onto his brother tightly. "N-no y-y-you won't!" he wept. "I-I did s-someth-thing real-ly bad!"

Rubbing the child's back gently, Gilbert began swaying slightly, hoping to relax his brother. "I will to," he said firmly. "There's nothing you could _ever _do to make me not love you."

"I-I killed my friend!" the boy blurted, pulling away from his brother just enough to stare up into ruby eyes with his own stricken blue.

Admittedly, that was not exactly something Gilbert had been expecting, but he remained calm, frowning in disbelief. "How?" he asked simply.

It seemed that the boy had been expecting some violent reaction from his brother, but when he received none, he collapsed against his brother heavily and just cried for several long minutes. Gilbert remained silent and continued to rub the boy's back, knowing that child was in desperate need of comfort and reassurance. He would be here now for the boy, like he never really was before.

"I-I ran o-out t-to the battle t-to find you," Ludwig said gently after he calmed a bit. "Ida t-told me not to g-go, but I didn't listen…I told her I h-had to and she followed me out. I was s-stupid and didn't think t-to tell her not to come with me…And when I started to run to the o-other side…"

Hugging his brother just a little bit tighter, Gilbert rocked back and forth, carding his fingers through his brother's downy hair. "Shhh, you don't have to say anymore." His voice was gentle and his tone tender. "It wasn't you fault, Ludwig. _You _didn't kill her. It was just an accident."

"But she di…she was kil…It _was _my fault!" the child cried, unable to say the dreadful words.

"No," the kingdom shook his head. "It wasn't your fault. It was an accident. You didn't fire the shot the killed her."

"But she was following _me_!"

"She was just doing what any friend would do," Gilbert kissed his brother's head. "A friend is someone that follows you and stands with your through thick and thin. Your friend was just being loyal, doing what friends do. You did nothing wrong, West."

"But I-!"

"Hush now," the albino commanded smoothly. "It's not your fault, Ludwig, and no matter how much you torture yourself over it, it won't bring her back, nor will it make you guilty. She died in war, and you cannot be blamed for that. She died because she loved you and wanted to make sure you were safe…She sounded like a very good person."

Ludwig buried his face into his brother's shoulder and hugged him tightly around the neck. Gilbert kept up his ministrations until he heard the child's sniffling cease and felt him go limp. He stayed still another moment before he was certain that child had really fallen asleep before he tucked in his little brother.

He stayed there with Ludwig, watching the boy sleep. Gilbert felt suddenly drained. He had never been good at giving emotional support before, but he tried very hard for his brother's sake. And for his brother sake, he sat with the boy for several more hours before he too went and changed for bed before slipping under the covers with his brother, and held the little one close, praying he could keep nightmares away.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **…I read some Russian fairytales this week. :D Okay, so anyway, now Gilbert has a better understanding of why Ludwig is unhappy and can better help the boy get over his grief. Ludwig should begin to perk up more now. And yes, Austria still thinks Italy is a girl. He'll get to be surprised in the future. :P I guess I should apologize, Ludwig's new friend won't come in until next chapter I think…sorry, I got a little ahead of myself before. **Next Up: **The Council of Vienna _and _Ludwig's new friend. ^^

**Russian: **_malish_- little one. _Sladkih snov- _sweet dreams. *** still using DoktorZeirmit's translations. :) Thanks!

**Italian: **_Sì, signor Austria_- Yes, Mr. Austria. _No, non è vero! Non può essere vero!- _No, that's not true! That can't be true! ****BIG thanks to my good friend ayatan for helping me with the Italian! :)

**German Reminder: **_Italien_- Italy. (I really just didn't misspell Italian -_- )

**Russian Fairytale: **The story is a real Russian fairytale, called _The Bear. _It pretty much goes exactly how Russia told it here…except I made it not so blunt. :P I got a book on Russian stories to compare them to the German, and while they're both still bloody and nearly unfit to tell small children, Russian stories…well, they're not so happy. German stories seem to have a good moral at the end or a lesson…when I read _The Bear_ it ended exactly how it ended here, with the bear just coming in and eating the people and that was it. It was so blunt and seemed like nothing but senseless violence, I thought of Russia immediately and had to put it in. ^^ Hope you liked it. :P

Please, as always, drop me a review! And thanks everyone for the fav's, alerts, and reviews thus far! You you're all awesome! :D


	17. Chapter 15: New Acquaintances

**Chapter Fifteen: New Acquaintances **

Normally going home would have been something Roderich was excited about and he would urge his horse to go faster if only for the sake of getting home just a little bit quicker, but he did not this time. Of course he was thrilled about going home—with a spectacular victory under his belt no less!—but he couldn't help but be nervous all the same. He hoped Veneziano would be out of the house and Hungary had arranged everything for their arrival. Sneaking a peek to the side, the Austria's stomach flipped when his violet gaze happened upon the small blonde sitting in front of Prussia, taking in the scenery leisurely. But it was with every fiber of the pianist being that he hoped nothing would happen to cause "West" to remember anything at the house.

There were times when Roderich would find himself forgetting that the boy had no memory about being the Holy Roman Empire. There were times when he wanted to mention something, a shared experience that they'd had, but instantly have to clamp his mouth shut. It was frustrating, and it _bothered _Roderich that he could not speak to the boy as a brother. West did not remember him as anything except the man that his "big brother Prussia" got into fights with occasionally. It made him slightly ill.

But as much as he wished that his own brother, Gerwig, would come out and remember everything, at the same time, Roderich dreaded ever having to be face to face with that boy again. The boy that he had known would _not _look kindly upon everything that had happened to him. Gerwig had been a rather dominating force in the world, one of the biggest and longest lasting confederations that Austria knew about, and while he loved his brother, Holy Rome had been past his prime. Holy Rome was not the kind to sit idle for too long. He had always constantly been dealing with rebellions of quarrels within his confederation, always having to crush or put down some fighting.

That being case, the boy that Austria had called brother had been hard, grim, and quite forceful. Should West suddenly get his memories back, Roderich feared the boy might just try to launch another full scale war in Europe. What was even worse was the fact that the German states were all talking together, wanting to act as one unit, not as a confederation, but as an actual _country._ Gerwig had been dominating as a confederation, what would he be if he were a proper country?

"Roderich!"

Blinking rapidly, the pianist shook his head for a moment before looking up into a pair of frustrated ruby-eyes. "Forgive me," he said hastily. "What did you say, _Preußen_?"

The albino scowled at him for a moment before snorting. "Didn't think _you'd _be the type to go and daydream, _Österreich_."

Although miffed about the Prussian's attitude, Roderich decided to let the slight go for the time being. After all, he'd be home soon and Elizabeta still had her frying pans… "What were you saying, _Preußen_?" Austria asked again, pleased with the thought of his wife beating the obnoxious smart-mouth upside the head.

"I _said_, 'Are we there yet?' The awesome Prussia shouldn't have to repeat himself, you know," the smaller kingdom snorted. "You're just luck I'm amazingly benevolent."

"Malevolent is more like it," Roderich muttered, but thankfully Prussia's "awesomely sensitive hearing" didn't pick it up. But louder he said, "We're about ten miles now, I should think. Almost there."

"Thank _God_!" Gilbert sighed overdramatically, causing Roderich to roll his eyes. "I _never _thought I'd be so glad to get to _your _shithole of a house."

"Why you—!"

"You two should not fight so much," Russia shook his head, clearly amused. "It is bad for _Lapooshka_, _da_?"

"Hey, don't you worry about West," the albino grinned wickedly at the Russian. "He's way smart and knows that we only fight because Roderich acts like an ass most of the time, right West?"

The scowl Austria gave could have peeled paint off of a wall. Oh yes, he would be _sure_ to have Elizabeta take down the Prussia's ego a few notches. How wonderful it would be to hear the arrogant bastard yelping and crying accompanied by the beautiful sound of iron hitting the back of the skull. It was always a treat when Gilbert was around.

For his part, West remained silent as always, but Roderich couldn't help but notice that the child was looking better than he had for the past several days. Color had returned to his pale cheeks and although the boy still looked tired and had dark rings around his eyes, it was not nearly as bad as it had been. Ever since the night Russia had told his "bedtime story" the boy seemed to have improved, no longer seemed ready to burst into tears. Austria had inquired about the change, but the Prussian did not seem willing to disclose any information on the matter, and brushed him off saying, "I can't tell you. It's a matter between me and West."

Austria soon became lost in thought again as he neared his home. How good it would be to finally get there, to rest and take in the comforts of home…he just kept praying that everything would go as he planned or else he just _knew _hell would break loose.

Time pasted well enough for the four nations and Russia was determined to tell another story to little West. For once, Roderich got to sit back and smile as he watched Prussia and Russia bicker back and forth. It was actually amusing to see Ivan wanting to speak so badly. Normally the Russian liked to sit and listen to what was going on around him unless he really had a point to make. Now, it seemed, that the larger nation was quite adamant in being able to tell another story. Poor Ivan, Gilbert had made it perfectly clear that he no longer wanted _any _Russian fairytales.

For the full ten miles the smaller kingdom and the empire fought until Roderich put an end to it. "We're here," he announced, and was immediately helped down from his mount by several bustling servants.

Stopping mid-insult, Gilbert's red eyes brightened considerably. "Awesome!" he practically screamed, hopping off his horse without any help. "Time to get some decent food again!"

Austria smiled a bit as he watched Prussia help his little brother off the horse and just held him in his arms. It was actually sort of sweet how Gilbert doted on the child. The brunette was not sure he had ever seen the albino go out of his way to care for someone else before, not even when West had been…well, a different child. Perhaps believing that Gerwig had died really did change Gilbert? Maybe he was trying to make up for past sins now?

But Austria was snapped out of his reflections when a small voice asked, "Is this really your house, _Herr Österreich_?"

Smiling kindly at the small boy, Roderich nodded. "It is. Let's go inside and you can see the rest of it as well."

Together the three men and the boy made their way through the courtyard and into the house. Roderich took a deep breath in and sighed, as he looked around the familiar setting hungrily. It had been a while since he'd last been here. It felt _wonderful_.

"Austria!"

Roderich turned his head just in time to see Hungary rush towards him before he had the woman on top of him. "Oh Austria! I missed you so much!" she cried, crushing in a tight hug.

The pianist blushed slightly, not really appreciating the display of affection in front of Russia or Prussia, but he managed to hold his dignity together. "Ah, Hungary, it's, uh, nice to see you again too."

From behind him, Austria heard Prussia's failed attempts to keep from snorting. "Don't the rest of us get a hug?"

Hungary turned her attention to her old rival and scowled darkly. "No," she snapped. "I'm afraid _you _don't get any such treatment because no one's missed _you_." To Russia, she smiled civilly and curtsied. "_Jó napot_, _Oroszország_."

The empire smiled his typical smile and dipped his head to her in greeting. "_Dobryi den', Vengriya_."

"Oh, I see, you're all polite to him, but not to me," Gilbert grumbled. "Real courteous of you, _Ungarn._"

Green eyes snapped over to the albino once again, and she looked about ready to skin the Prussian alive when all of her anger seemed to drain away when she caught sight of blue eyes staring back at her. Elizabeta went a bit pale as she stared at the boy in Prussia's arms and she floundered around for a moment, unable to say anything, but desperately wanting to.

"My dear," Roderich spoke up at this. "Why don't you come with me and tell me about the dinner arrangements tonight. We'll let the servants show our guests to their rooms so they can get cleaned up."

The servants jumped into action at their master's command and led the other two nations away. West looked over his brother's shoulder as they went and stared back at Hungary and Austria, a small frown on his lips as he studied them. For just a moment Roderich wondered if the boy remembered them, but there was no spark of recognition in the blue eyes, merely confusion, probably due to Elizabeta's reaction.

When the guests were out of sight, Hungary turned towards her husband frowning. Her emerald eyes lighting up with shock and bewilderment. "Was that—?"

"No," Roderich said curtly, before turning to walk away. "Come with me please, my dear."

Elizabeta did as she was ordered and quickly caught up to walk beside her husband. She waited for Austria to say something, but he did not speak as he led her to the parlor. Once they were there, Roderich went to his piano and quickly snatched up and small painting he'd had made nearly one hundred years ago of his brother and swiftly put it in his coat pocket. Next he walked over to the mantle. "Help me get this painting down," he ordered rather than asked.

Still frowning, but not wanting to anger the man, Hungary did as she was told. She walked over slowly and together the two nations took down the rather large painting of what had once been their family. A servant came by after seeing his master come home and Austria quickly ordered him to move the painting to his chambers. The servant bowed and called for help before the painting was removed. Next, Roderich took down a smaller painting off the wall and ordered that it also be taken away as well.

Hungary watched all this in puzzlement, and once they were alone again, she planted her hands firmly on her hips. "Are you going to tell me what's going on now?"

Sitting down heavily on his piano bench, Roderich sighed, running a hand through his hair tiredly. "I suppose you want to know why I took down those pictures of Holy Rome."

"Yes," Elizabeta nodded, kneeling down in front of her husband. "But I'm more curious to know who that little boy was with _Poroszország_."

Looking down at his wife, Roderich felt a strange wave of guilt for not having told her about West over the past eight years. "That, my dear, is 'West'," he said quietly. "He is the heir of Holy Roman Empire."

"'West'?" Hungary frowned slightly.

"That is what _Preußen _called him after he found the boy," Austria explained. "The boy used to be the Confederation of the Rhine until recently. He's been living with France for the past eight years."

Hungary sat down on the floor, looking thoughtful. "I see… but Roderich, that boy, he looks _so _much like Holy Rome! Is it really—"

"He will not remember you," the pianist interjected quietly with a sigh. "He does not remember _anything_."

Elizabeta gasped lightly. "S-so it really is _him_ though?"

"It is," Roderich nodded. "But Elizabeta," he said sternly before the girl could get too excited. "You are not to speak to him as though you already know him. He does not remember you or the past. He might still have the same body as Holy Rome, but he is not the same _person._ He is a completely different child now and Gilbert and I have decided that it would be best if the boy was not aware of his past. He is not to know that he was once the Holy Roman Empire."

"But why?" green eyes stared up into amethyst earnestly. "Why can't he know about who he was?"

It was a shame that Hungary really didn't understand because in all honesty, he really did not feel like explaining everything at the moment. "He's not the same person, my dear," Roderich said again. "He might look the same, might still have a similar thought pattern, but he is _not _Holy Rome…he's not my brother anymore."

Hungary stood up and hugged her husband to her close. She held him for several minutes before kissing the top of his head softly. "I'm sorry, my dear," she whispered. "I…I won't let on that I know who he is…or was. But please," she looked down into his violet gaze, "please tell me everything later on?"

Roderich smiled softly. He wasn't the romantic type, never had been, but he was certain that he loved Elizabeta. He wasn't sure when he'd actually fallen in love with her, but he loved her now and he treasured her concern and trust above anything else. "Thank you," he smiled, standing. "I will tell you later. But as for right now, I think I need to get cleaned up and ready before dinner."

The woman beamed up at her husband lovingly and nodded. "Good…because you really do smell."

Roderich snorted, but couldn't help the grin that slipped onto his face. "Cheeky girl," he muttered, and Elizabeta smacked his arm lightly. "I'm going to get ready." He turned to leave but not before he quickly kissed his wife's forehead.

**oOoOoOo**

Although Gilbert would never say this out loud to _anyone_, the room he'd been given was probably the _best _thing in the world! The moment he had entered the room with West, the albino had flopped down on the _actual_ bed and laughed while he stretched out. "Oh yes! This is what I've been missing!"

Ludwig rolled off of his brother's stomach and hopped down on the floor. "_Bruder! _Get off the bed!" the boy scolded.

Chuckling, the Prussian sat up and raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Why's that, West?"

"Because you're all dusty and dirty," the boy said very matter-of-factly. "You'll get all of the blankets dirty too."

The albino laughed outright at this, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately. "You didn't seem to mind so much when we were traveling about the blankets."

"That's because we were outside and sleeping _in _the dirt," the blonde rolled his eyes, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Snorting at the sassiness, but glad all the same that his brother seemed to be getting over his grief, Gilbert stood up before looking down at the child as though to say, "There. Happy?" He received a nod of approval from the boy—which Prussia secretly thought was adorable the way the boy wanted to take control—before he turned and looked about the room. While his brother looked around, Gilbert went through their packs to fish out clean clothes for both of them. Dinner would be ready soon and he couldn't _wait_ to actually eat something worthwhile again. Besides, West had gotten rather skinny over the past several weeks. It was time to fatten up the kid.

So, after getting out the proper clothes, Gilbert rang for the servants to draw a bath for Ludwig, who seemed distressed about being a bit dirty. Once the water was ready, Gilbert quickly gave himself a bird bath before he let his brother into the bathroom to bathe. He was amused that the boy was horrified when he'd offer to help Ludwig wash. Really it was hilarious to tease the kid.

While Ludwig was washing, Gilbert took the time to change into his best uniform before setting out his brother's clothes. Shaking his hair out after combing it, he looked in the mirror. His little bird came flying almost instantly and made itself at ease in his hair again. Grinning at the little yellow thing, Prussia stroked its feathers for a moment. "Hey there, buddy. Comfy?"

He laughed when he received a little peep in confirmation. "Kesesese! Well I'm glad to hear it!"

A moment later, Ludwig immerged with a towel wrapped around him tightly. "May I have my clothes please?"

Gilbert laughed again and shook his head. Why was Ludwig so polite? Geez! He remembered when his brother _never _asked anything politely, just demanded it because he believed it was his right to be treated like an emperor…which, once Gilbert thought about it, wasn't really _too _hard to believe. After all, the other nations that had once been part of the confederation before Gerwig was born had all seemed to disappear once the confederation had grown stronger, and once that guy had died down and Germania had given control to Holy Rome, a huge expanse of land, ruled by different leaders and princes, had kept one single personification, which had been Gerwig. It really was not all that shocking that the boy had become proud and perhaps a bit arrogant in his power. After all, he had been the single personification of the largest land mass in Europe for nearly one thousand years. It was only natural that he believed himself slightly above others.

But now that Gerwig had changed into Ludwig, it seemed that the opposite had occurred. While Ludwig was still a rather large confederation, he was not completely alone. There was Austria, and Prussia planed on taking a large chunk of land that Napoleon had robbed himself of. And Gilbert had even gotten wind that there was another little kingdom that had created its own personification several years back…

Shaking his head, clearing his thoughts, the albino handed over the clothes to his brother. He was pleased that Ludwig had managed to keep the outfit that he had gotten for Christmas eight years ago, and it was good to know that the boy hadn't outgrown anything yet! "There you are!" he smiled brightly down at the blonde.

Ludwig blushed slightly, apparently not all that pleased that his brother saw him in nothing but a towel, but managed to mutter a "thank you" before he closed the door again to dress.

Chuckling at the modesty, the albino flopped down on the bed again, his little bird shifting accordingly, and closed his eyes with a sigh. As fun as it was to fight and completely kick France's ass and all, Gilbert was glad that he'd be able to sleep in a bed again. Running around Europe with von Blücher had taken a lot out of him, though he'd never admit it. But he was happy.

In another minute Ludwig walked out fully dressed and looking every bit as gentleman-like as the great Arthur Kirkland. Gilbert snorted at the thought, but smiled at the younger German merrily. "You look good, West. I don't think even Austria could find fault with you!"

"Really?" anxious blue eyes looked up worriedly.

"You have _nothing _to be worried about, West. You look awesome!"

The blonde smiled up at his older brother shyly. "_Danke_. I-is it time for dinner yet?"

Prussia laughed. "Hungry?" The boy nodded. "Well, let's go see, shall we? I'm sure _Österreich und __Ungarn_ are about ready for us."

Together the two brothers left the room, Gilbert holding his brother's hand. Honestly there was no reason for it, Ludwig could walk just fine and the house wasn't so big that the child would get lost or anything, but after spending eight years away from the child, the Prussian was a little wary of letting the boy too far from his reach. Having contact with the child calmed the albino, assured him that his victory over France had been real.

Gilbert guided them to the parlor and the first thing that the kingdom realized was that the large "family" painting that Roderich had always hung so proudly over the fireplace was missing. There also seemed to be a painting missing from a different wall as well, but he said nothing about it. He would ask Austria about it later when West was asleep. The second thing the albino noticed was that Russia was already sitting in there, reading a book.

The moment the empire caught sight of the two brothers, he brightened considerably. "Ah_ malish_! You look handsome this evening," he praised.

The boy flushed pink before muttering another shy "thank you." While Russia smiled, Gilbert picked his brother up and walked over to a chair and sat down not too far from the Slavic nation. "Have you seen Austria or Hungary since getting cleaned up?"

"I have not," Ivan said casually. "I was told that they would be here soon though."

Gilbert nodded and turned his attention back to his brother. He wondered vaguely if his brother remembered this house or anything in it, but thus far Ludwig was taking in the sights with new eyes. There was no recognition of anything. Gilbert's heart nearly stopped when he realized that there was a painting of Italy on the far wall, but he noted that when the blonde looked at it, he merely cocked his head to the side in curiosity, just like he did with everything else, before he moved on and turned his attention to the piano. It was clear that Ludwig had no memory of anyone, not even the girl he'd had a crush on.

A moment later, Austria and Hungary did come into the room. Gilbert and Ivan stood up in greeting the lady, but there was someone else that came in with master of the house and his lady. Prussia couldn't keep the smile off his face when he saw the little girl resting snuggly in Elizabeta's arms. He looked down at his own little brother who was in his arms and noticed the way the blonde was staring at the other child with wide eyes. Oh, things had just gotten much more interesting for Prussia.

"Forgive us for running a bit behind." Roderich refused to say the word "late". "You both know Hungary, but I'm certain none of you have met the newest addition to our household. This is Liechtenstein," he gestured to the tiny girl.

Liechtenstein turned a pretty shade of pink before she shyly looked away from everyone and hid her face in Hungary's shoulder. Elizabeta and Ivan both giggled while Roderich and Gilbert grinned. "Don't you want to say 'hello' to everyone, dear?" Hungary asked.

The girl peeked out for a moment before shaking her head negative. The adorable display of shyness made both Hungary and Russia giggle again. "Why don't you set her down so that she can be properly introduced to the little man, here?" Ivan suggested gleefully.

"That's a totally awesome idea!" Gilbert exclaimed and set his brother down. "West, go say '_hallo_' to Liechtenstein."

Ludwig snapped his head up to stare at his older brother in horror before shaking his head violently. The little boy looked like he was about to dart behind Gilbert's leg when the albino pushed him forward, laughing. "Go on, West! Be a gentleman and tell the lady '_hallo_'," he smirked.

The boy looked mortified, but nodded before taking a few cautious steps forward. Hungary set down Liechtenstein also and nudged the girl forward as well. The adults watched with absolute delight and affection as the two children came close together, both brilliant shades of pink, acting adorably awkward. The two little blondes chanced glances at each other before looking down at their feet.

"_G-Guten Tag,_" Ludwig ventured.

The girl looked peeked up for a moment before dropping her gaze, blushing harder. "_Guten Tag,_" she responded, twisting her dress in her hands nervously.

"_Oni takie prelestnie_!" Russia exclaimed, beaming in utter delight. "They should have their likenesses drawn together!"

The two children looked afraid while Hungary and Prussia laughed. Austria smiled warmly. Gilbert walked over to the two children and knelt down. "_Hallo _Liechtenstein," he said gently. "I'm _Preußen_. You're a cute little thing. Do you like my brother, West?"

The little girl twisted her dress in her hands nervously as she looked up at the strange man before her. Gilbert looked into the girl's cyan eyes and couldn't help but notice that she had a rather strong resemblance to Switzerland. Probably because she shared a boarder with the other German speaking state. But he waited patiently and grinned when she nodded her head.

"They're so cute!" Hungary nearly squealed as she also knelt down next to the children. "My name is _Magyarország_ or _Ungarn._ And your name is West?" she ventured to the boy.

"_Ich heiße_ Ludwig," the boy said quietly, blushing under the attention of the older woman.

Elizabeta giggled. "It's very nice to meet you, Ludwig." Gilbert was surprised that his brother actually gave his real name, and noticed that Roderich looked a bit surprised as well. "And would you like to tell Ludwig your name, my dear?" she questioned the little girl.

Little Liechtenstein began twisting about anxiously, hands still firmly grasped in her dress, before she glanced back up at the boy before her. "_Ich heiße _Lilie," she murmured.

Having had enough of being left out of the introductions, Ivan came towards the children wearing his own childish smile. "_Privet, _Lilie! I am _Rossiya_."

While the adults seemed to be having the time of their lives with the little ones, the children themselves looked about ready to pass out under the stress of being the center of attention. Liechtenstein looked as though she might start crying at any moment while Ludwig kept glancing around like he might bolt out of the room. Deciding to end his brother's sufferings, Gilbert easily picked up the little boy and smiled down at Lilie. "Well, I don't know about any of you, but I'm starving!" the albino cried. "Is dinner ready?"

Austria followed suit and picked up the little girl as well. "_Ja_, I believe that dinner is nearly ready. Please follow me please."

The four adults and the two children made their way to the dining room and sat down at the table. At the head was Austria. To his right was Prussia and to his left, Hungary. Next to Hungary was Lilie and next to Pussia was Ludwig. At the other end of the table sat Russia, who seemed thrilled at being in between the two children. Gilbert made mental note in passing on that Russia should _never _be allowed to tell a bedtime story to Liechtenstein to Elizabeta later on. While the albino wasn't all too fond of the woman, he still didn't want the innocent little girl to suffer!

They sat down together in an odd silence before the food was brought out. Elizabeta and Gilbert each helped make the children's plates before their own. Russia and Austria watched for a moment before getting themselves something as well. "I am so glad that you've all come back," Hungary said after a time, when everyone began eating. "I was so glad to hear that you'd beaten France."

Ludwig stiffened slightly at the mention of his former boss, but relaxed when his brother smiled encouragingly at him. Gilbert wondered if his brother still suffered from his nightmares, but didn't bother to bring it up at the table. "Yeah, well, you should have seen it, Hungary!" Prussia exclaimed, always willing to brag. "It was great! We had the coward running! You should have seen him and England dueling. It was hilarious! The Frog jumped on a horse and ran away!" he laughed.

Hungary's eyes lit up and she smirked nastily. "I can believe that," she nodded, taking delight in the fallen empire's loss. "I can imagine it was quite entertaining."

While Elizabeta liked to believe that she was Roderich's perfect lady, Gilbert knew the woman still had her old, tomboy personality buried deep inside her, just itching to come out every once and a while. He smirked at her, seeing the old fire in her eyes. "Yeah, but I'd still like to know what you did to him, _Russland_. He nearly pissed himself when you walked in the room at the end!"

While Russia smiled on innocently, Austria cleared his throat loudly. "This is really _not_ good table conversation," he said sternly. "Besides, there are children present."

The other three adults wisely kept anything else they might have wanted to say to themselves, Hungary and Prussia looking a bit guilty about speaking in such away in front of the children while Russia continued to smile on, completely unaffected by the rebuke. And thus the dinner went on silently until Roderich came up with a topic that he thought safe to speak about in front of the younger nations.

When the dinner was finished and everyone was full, they all retired to the parlor where Roderich sat down at the piano and began playing a tune. It was rather peaceful, and when Gilbert got distracted with talking to Elizabeta, Ivan stole the two children and sat down with them on the couch and began telling them a story.

Before Gilbert could stop the Russia, Ivan had already launched into his tale. The adults became quiet and Roderich played softer so that he could also hear the narrative. "This story is called 'Sister Alionushka, Brother Ivanushka'," Ivan began happily.

"He has a name like yours," Lilie said shy, glance up to look into Russia's eyes.

The empire was delighted and beamed down at the children who sat on either side of him. "_Da_, he does indeed, _Angelochek_! Let us begin our tale!"

Although both Roderich and Gilbert were leery about letting the Russian tell the story, they were at least pleased with the way the story began. It wasn't anything too horrid, and sounded similar to their own folktales. It was funny to watch how the children's eyes widened each time something dramatic happened, and how even a few times they gripped onto Ivan's arms when scared. But it was with great surprise that the tale ended joyfully with the king and queen and the goat all living happily ever after with the evil sorceress getting what she deserved with Russia absolutely delighted with the attention he'd received from the children.

At the close of the story, however, Ludwig tugged on Russia's sleeve. "But does Ivanushka ever turn back into a person?"

"Ah, I do not know for certain," Russia said carefully. "But even if he didn't, he was able to live happy and safe with his sister and the king, _da_?"

"I liked the story," Lilie stated boldly. "Thank you for telling it to us."

"_Ja_. Thank you," Ludwig repeated.

"You are both very welcome!" Ivan beamed. "Perhaps tomorrow night I will tell you another story."

Both children smiled and nodded.

"Well, now that you've had a story, Lilie, why don't you take Ludwig to your room and show him your toys?" Roderich suggested. "The adults need to have a talk."

The little girl nodded once before she hopped off the couch. She looked over at Ludwig expectantly. In turn, the boy looked over to his brother, as though asking permission while looking uncomfortable. "Go on ahead, West," Gilbert smiled encouragingly. "You could show Liechtenstein Otto."

The little confederation did not look all that pleased with the idea, but nodded anyway. He slid down from his spot next to the Russian as well and walked over slowly to the girl. It seemed that Liechtenstein was getting over her initial shyness and smiled at Ludwig. Before he could have done anything to stop her, Lilie took Ludwig by the hand and began leading him out of the room. Gilbert couldn't help but snicker at how red his brother's face got.

The adults watched in amusement as the children left. Once they were gone and out of hearing rang, Austria turned to the others that were left. "I think it's time that we discuss what's to be done with the Confederation of the Rhine."

While it was not all that surprising that Austria had been thinking about the German states, it was really the _last _thing Gilbert wanted to talk about after such a nice evening. He wasn't sure he was going to like what everyone else wanted to do with his little brother. _And here it comes…_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Forgive the slight delay. Busy couple of weeks…and a blizzard. -_- But I hope you all enjoyed a fluffier chapter. The past several ones have been rather heavy, so I thought I'd give you all a break. And I hope you liked the introduction of Liechtenstein. She's going to be around for a while.

**History: **Liechtenstein had its beginnings in the early in history and was part of Austria in the Holy Roman Empire. While it was around early on in history, it never really gain real recognition until about 1806/1807 when the Holy Roman Empire was dissolved. (I decided that that's about the time she was "born"…so she never really knew Holy Rome) After the Napoleonic Wars, Liechtenstein becomes part of the German Confederation. (Meaning that she'll live with Germany, like the narrator said in the series. This is the ONLY time in which she could have lived with Germany, meaning that "Germany" would have HAD to exist in at least 1815 even though the name "Germany" was not yet in existence…thus proving to me that Germany was around before 1871 when the Empire was created).

One more thing, Roderich not wanting Ludwig to become a country is also historically accurate. The Austro-Hungarian Empire (others as well) did _not _want a united Germany. It went against their interests and it was a really scary thought for most people…because Germans were apparently really scary. Just kidding. It was more that they would be a major powerhouse in Europe and no one wanted that after Napoleon. AND there really was a "German Confederation" of sorts before it became known as the Holy Roman Empire…just fyi…

**Name: **Liechtenstein really doesn't have a name in the series, but a lot of people call her "Lily", so I went with that, only I used the German spelling. :P

**Story: **"Sister Alionushka, Brother Ivanushka" is, from what I gather, a pretty well known Russian fairytale. Unlike the other one Ivan tells, this one has all the makings of a classic fairytale; brother and sister prince and princess have something tragic happen, brother turns into a goat, sister marries a king, evil sorceress tries to kill princess and prince (who's a goat now) but king finds out, sorceress dies, everyone else lives happily ever after. ^^ Neither Roderich or Gilbert could complain about this one.

**Hungarian: **_Jó napot_- Good day. _Oroszország- _Russia. _Poroszország- _Prussia. _Magyarország- _Hungary. ***If my Hungarian is wrong, let me know. I looked these up in an old dictionary on campus. XD

**Russian: **_Lapooshka-_ Лапушка- little paw (Russian endearment)._ Dobryi den'- _Добрый день-Good day. _Vengriya- _Венгрия- Hungary. Oni takie prelestnie- Они такие прелестные-They are so cute/charming! _Angelochek-_ Лапушка- little angel.

*** Again, thanks to DoktorZeirmit for the Russian help! :D

**German: **_Ungarn_- Hungary. _Ich heiße-_ My name is (lit. I am named) The rest you should know by now…


	18. Chapter 16: Tea Parties

**Chapter Sixteen: Tea Parties**

The adults watched until the children were away before turning back to focus on themselves. "I think it's time that we discuss what's to be done with the Confederation of the Rhine," Austria said.

They all sat still for a moment, none of them seemingly too excited about that particular discussion when Russia decided to set up a topic of his own. "His name is Ludwig? How disappointing. I was hoping he'd choose something more classic, like Johann or Hans."

Gilbert bristled at—what in his mind—was a very great insult and completely forgot about what Austria had just said seconds before. He snorted obnoxiously just to prove his point. "Please. Do you know how many Johann's and Hans's there are out there?" Red eyes rolled dramatically. "Ludwig is a _way _better name. Common, but not _as _common, you know?"

Russia sat staring at the albino for a moment before he smiled pleasantly. "No, I do not know," he beamed. "Oh well. At least he and _Angelochek _look handsome together. Like a matched set of china dolls."

The other three nations were not at all sure that they liked the way the empire had said these things, but before Gilbert could once again jump up to protect his little brother from the insane Russian, Austria finally found a time to speak. "Please," he said, raising his hands in peace. "Please, for the time being, let us not bicker over the name the boy's chosen for himself, but rather, I believe that we need to start discussing what is to be done with the child now that his is out of France's care."

There was a moment, when Prussia was listening, that the words coming out of Austria's mouth simply did not make sense to Gilbert. Yes, he understood the need to not bicker about the name—that could be done later, anyway— but what was this _need _to talk about where Ludwig would be going? As surprising as it sounded, maybe Roderich had misspoken? "What do you mean?" he decided to ask, save everyone else from misunderstanding as well. "West's going to come home with me."

Both Roderich and Elizabeta both scowled at him, apparently both having the same mind about the issue, while Ivan giggled. Suddenly Gilbert felt like an idiot and he had no idea why. Was he really the odd man out on this one? But along with his deeper confusion and embarrassment over being laughed at, the albino felt his temper growing hotter.

"What?" he demanded after another moment. "What's so wrong with what I said?"

It did not help Prussia's hurting ego—or temper— when Roderich sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose like he was dealing with a real idiot. "_Preußen_," he began while beside him, Hungary crossed her arms. "You can't expect everyone to simply let you take Ludwig to your home."

Again, what Austria was saying might as well have been said in Norwegian as far as Gilbert was concerned, because he really, honestly did not understand. "Why not?"

Hungary sighed with no small amount of disgust for the thickheaded albino while Russia giggled again. "Oh, for goodness sake, Prussia!" Elizabeta exploded once red eyes turned to her in confusion. "Did you really forget all that Ludwig represents?"

"What Hungary is trying to say," Roderich stepped up before his wife cause another fight, "is that Ludwig is not just a boy. Remember that he is a confederation. One that makes up a fairly significant amount of land. Allowing you to just walk out with him would be like letting you walk out the door with Spain and Portugal."

At last, everything clicked into place, and the moment it did, Gilbert glowered, charging forward. "But West is my brother! I'm not going to just pass him off to all of you so you can split him up again!"

Remaining surprisingly calm for having a furious albino in his face, Roderich carefully pushed the Prussian back and away from him. "Our different views on the matter is precisely why I believe that we should have a meeting to discuss what will happen to the boy. Obviously we will also need to inform the United Kingdom as well as France."

"Fuck no!" Gilbert growled. "We don't need this whole big, stupid meeting! We can decide what happens to Ludwig right here, right now. Okay…so as far as his lands, just let them be. I'll take him home and when he's all grown up, he can properly look over them. There! No one 'gets' the land, but West will still be well looked after."

"You are quite sure of yourself, aren't you, _Prussiya_?" Russia laughed. "That was one of the worst ideas I've heard in a long time."

"This coming from the madman that had burned down Moscow!" was what Gilbert had _wanted _to say, but he also had a very strong resolve to live, so he clamped his mouth shut. "Listen," he began again, hoping to avoid this stupid debate, at least for the time being. "Okay, so I understand what you're all saying. You're worried that I'm planning to just take over Ludwig as a country. Well, while that sounds like an awesome idea, that's _not _what I'm after here. I just…I mean…Isn't there some way that I can just watch over Ludwig?…at least the personification part of him? That's really all I want…" _for the time being, anyway. _

While what he was staying _was _true, there was a tactical approach Gilbert was taking. If he could scrounger up enough compassion on this subject, he was certain he could be riding home with West within a week! He had become pretty good at playing off of other people's emotions lately, but he honestly hoped he could get away with it at the moment. He just wanted to go home with West. It was unfortunate that Austrian and France had found out about Ludwig at all, because then Gilbert could have hidden the boy away and the past eight years would have never happened like they had.

But the speech was met with a hard scowl from Austria. It was the kind of scowl that would normally dissuade anyone from arguing further, but Prussia knew Roderich well enough to know that behind the look of displeasure, he had hit a chord with the pianist. "Prussia, what you want has nothing to do with politics or national affairs. What you are suggesting comes from the selfish want of your own _personal _desires."

"Selfish?" Gilbert spat indignantly, insulted. "Is it so wrong that I want to keep politics out of this? West is my little brother, and I want to take him home! I'm not thinking so much about myself as I am about him!"

"But it is impossible to separate politics from our own personal wants, Prussia. You know that," Austria shook his head sadly. "Even if it truly was the best thing for Ludwig to go with you, he could not simply due to the fact that he is also a nation. He is not just a child. The humans won't see it that way."

The albino snapped his mouth shut and glared at nothing as he mulled the words over in his head. It was true, everything Austria had said, but it did not make the other feel any better knowing their validity. While it was true that Ludwig was, in fact, a nation, he _was _still a child. And a young child at that! For the first time in his life, Gilbert truly felt a pull between his nationality and his humanity. He knew what his duty was; it was to see to it that he regained his lost land and to keep the German states down and under control, and to ultimately do as his king commanded. And yet, his human side could have cared less about other nations or about the land at all. All _Gilbert _wanted to do was take his little brother home with him after spending eight years apart. He could have cared less about what anyone else wanted.

Looking over at the others, the smaller kingdom realized that they seemed just as apprehensive about the whole ordeal as he was. Perhaps not Russia so much. After all, he still had his own empire in the east to be concerned with, and he did not seem too much care about the affairs in the west as long as they did not directly affect him.

"Well," Gilbert growled, crossing his arms. "What's to be done then? Just gather up everyone and re-divide West? What, are we going to cut him into sections or something?"

While said with heated sarcasm, the Prussian could not deny his fear behind the statement. What if it really was decided that West should be split apart? What would happen to the little confederation? Would he become one of the German kingdoms or would he simply disappear and, at last, the many German states would regain their lost personifications that had disappeared many years ago? But Gilbert did not _want _to see any of the lost personifications that he had once known. He did not _care _about any of them. They had all long ago gone before Holy Rome, and as far as the former Teutonic Order was concerned, they could stay dead. All he wanted was his brother Ludwig. No one else. He was actually a bit surprised at how passionately he felt over the matter.

"I do not know what will be decided," Roderich sighed, rubbing his brow. "Perhaps the boy will be allowed to stay together and all he will have to do is change his name as a confederation? I do not know. It will all be decided by our rulers, I suppose."

Gilbert continued to scowl, though he did not respond. While he normally liked to throw his opinions out in the open for everyone to bask in the glory of his brilliance, at the moment, he did not feel like sharing his thoughts. With anyone. For the first time in a long while, the albino was conflicted in his own thinking. Prussia knew and wanted one goal, but Gilbert wanted something else entirely. It was a strange feeling to be at odds with oneself, one that did not feel particularly pleasant. The kingdom decided that he hated it. He hated it more than he hated anything else before, because when he was conflicted, he felt like a part of him was betraying West…

"In the morning, I will inform my emperor of the situation and we shall see if we cannot create a congress to decide the fate of the German states," Austria said gently.

The fate of the German states. How cold that sentence sounded to the older brother's ears. It was not just the fate of the German states. It was the fate of _Ludwig_. Thinking of that left a sour taste in Gilbert's mouth and he scowled, even as his stomach cramped and felt suddenly too tight. What exactly would happen to his brother now?

**oOoOoOo**

While the adults spoke of such heavy, depressing issues, the children in the house did not have that care or have that worry resting on their shoulders. Instead, Lilie took Ludwig to her room, smiling happily now that she had finally acquired a new friend that was close to her own age. It had been rather stuffy in the house with just the adults, especially since Italy Veneziano was always working and was growing lately and just seemed too old for Lilie to play with. Ludwig seemed much younger than the Italian and seemed to be very nice.

Neither child spoke as they walked through the house, neither one particularly knew what to talk about, nor were either of them particularly good at making small talk. So they were silent as they went, Liechtenstein holding the hand of Germany. Although not nearly as nervous as she had been previously, there was still a gentle blush on the little girl's face, her excitement coming out at the prospect of a real friend her own age.

But while the girl was pink, Ludwig was bright red from ear to ear. He did not know what to make of this situation at all. He had never, to his knowledge, ever been around other children before. From as far back as his mind would let him wander, all he knew was how to act around adults. One of his first memories was when he and Gilbert had met, and then there was Roderich. After that he had lived in France, but even then he had never had never been around other children. Sure, there was Napoleon's baby, but Ludwig did not really count the baby since it never did anything interesting and he was _never _allowed to interact with it. So, as he went along with Liechtenstein, the boy was understandably nervous. After all, this was his chance to make a friend and he did not want to ruin it…not like last time.

"This is my room," Lilie announced as she opened a door. "D-…Do you like it?" she asked uncertainly as they stepped inside.

Ludwig's first impression of the small bedroom was that it was incontestably pink. The walls could be called white, but there was a pink hue to them that could not be denied. There were painting of flowers all over the walls and even a few vases with fresh flowers in them as well, most of them, of course, pink. The blanket on the bed was pink as well. Yet despite the color, it seemed a perfectly adequate room as far as the boy was concerned. Color didn't matter really as long as it got the job done, he supposed.

"_Ja_," he nodded once. "It's…very nice."

He peeked over at the other child to see her response and blushed harder when he saw that she was smiling shyly at him. Why did she have to look like that? It really made Ludwig feel…uncomfortable.

"_Danke_," she gave a slight curtsy. "Would…would you like to come in and play a game with me?"

Play? What could they possibly play together? The only people Ludwig had ever actually played with were Gilbert and Ida, and both of them had not been afraid to ruff him up a bit and wrestle. Although he was not for sure, the boy was certain that if he tried to play any of the games he had in the past that he would end up hurting Liechtenstein and Ludwig _never _wanted to hurt anyone _ever _again. Not after what he had done last time…

"What kind of game?" he asked instead. Maybe if he let her chose then it wouldn't be so bad?

"Umm…I don't know," she shrugged, walking further into her room, looking about. "You are the guest. What sort of game would you like?"

It took a lot of effort for the boy not to start squirming from discomfort, but he managed…almost. "I…I don't care. Whatever you want to play."

"That's sweet of you," Lilie smiled coyly. "Umm…maybe we could have a tea party?"

"That's fine," Ludwig answered immediately. While having a tea party did not sound in any way, shape, or form interesting to him, it was a safe game to play and he wouldn't have to worry about breaking her or something equally as terrible.

"Oh good!" the girl cried, clapping her hands together excitedly. "Do you want to help me set it up?"

"I…umm…sure."

It did not take long before the two children had set out an old china set that Hungary had given Lilie to play with out on a miniature table that Roderich had had made for her. They even spread out a nice table cloth and everything. Once the essentials were taken care of, the two children found themselves in need of "guests" to fill in the empty seats.

As he looked at the dolls and animals Lilie sat out, Ludwig began to feel a bit nervous and a bit awkward. It seemed to him that Lilie had the advantage over him for some reason. All of the "guests" were _hers _and he was not sure he liked that she got to have all of her friends while he had none of his. "Can…can we go get Otto so he can come?" he asked after a moment.

"Oh!" Liechtenstein turned, her cyan eyes bright. "I'm sorry, I did not know you had any guests. Who is Otto?"

Twisting about a bit uncomfortably, Ludwig looked at the floor rather than at the pretty blue-green eyes in front of him. "He's my puppy."

Smiling brightly, Lilie nodded. "Of course, Otto should be here. Where is he?"

"He is in mine and _Bruder's _room."

"Let's go get him," the girl said excitedly. "Do you know the way?"

"Yes of course," Ludwig nearly rolled his eyes, but stopped himself because he remembered that that was rude…even though Gilbert did it all the time. If there was one thing he was good at, it was direction. He had been traveling a lot lately and he had taken it upon himself to remember things like which way camp was in case he got separated, or which way France was so that he could avoid it. "Follow me."

Unlike Lilie, Ludwig did _not _feel the need to take the girl by the hand and directed her to the room where he was staying. If she could not keep up then he would wait for her, but there was no reason to drag her around like a ragdoll. Besides the fact that it just seemed a little rude to force her along by her hand, it would have more importantly made Ludwig feel… uneasy. There was just something about holding a girl's hand that made his insides squirm. He had seen several French people hold hands before, but they had all been couples and Ludwig and Lilie were certainly not a couple! Therefore, in his mind, it was inappropriate to initiate any action of hand-holding.

They marched on until they came to the guest room. Ludwig had to stand on his very tip toes to open the door, but once that was done, everything else went pretty smoothly. He went in quickly while Liechtenstein stayed in the doorway, and went to the bed where Otto sat waiting for him, just like he'd told the puppy to.

Once the toy was in his arms, Ludwig quickly made his way back to the girl. "Okay, got him," he said a bit unnecessarily, but did not stop long enough for the girl could see him blush. He could already hear her giggles behind him anyway.

The little troop made it back to base in record time thanks to the little confederation's impeccable navigational skills. When they were back in the safety of Liechtenstein's room, Ludwig was able to sigh a bit in relief and mentally declared the venture a success. Now that his mission with Otto was finished, along with having set up for the tea party, all that was left was to actually _have _the tea party. That shouldn't be too hard, right?

When Otto was sitting happily in his reserved seat, the tea party was able to commence, and the two children sat down in their chairs as well. Ludwig was not too sure what to do and followed Lilie's lead. Sure, he had seen tea parties before when he was with France, but he had never really actually been a guest at one. What was he supposed to do?

"Okay," Lilie smiled merrily. "Would you like some tea, Ludwig?"

Well, that was the whole point of a _tea _party, so the boy nodded once. The girl tipped the tea pot and poured the contents into Ludwig's glass. The German boy was suddenly struck with a very disconcerting realization. "Lilie…there's no tea in the pot."

Cocking her head to the side, the little girl stared at her new playmate curiously. "Sure there is."

"No. There's not. See, there's no tea in my cup." For extra emphasis, he over turned his cup just to prove that nothing was going to spill out.

For the second time that night, Ludwig found himself mortified and annoyed as Liechtenstein giggled at him. "You're supposed to pretend that there's tea, Ludwig," she laughed. "Have you never had a pretend tea party before?"

Frowning, the boy could not quite grasp the simple pleasures of pretending that there was tea in his clearly empty cup. "What good is it to pretend to have something when you don't?" he asked, frowning. "Why can't we just go ask for some real tea?"

"Because this is a pretend tea party," the girl pouted. "Y-you don't want to pretend with me anymore?"

Well, that was not what Ludwig had been expecting and he found himself feeling a little guilty over making Liechtenstein look so sad. "N-no, no!" he said quickly, trying to amend the wrong he'd done. "It's not that, it's just…wouldn't it be nicer if we really did have tea?"

The other child sat a moment as if thinking. "_Ja_, it would be nice. But it's getting late and soon we'll have to go to bed. Too late for tea and treats…M-maybe tomorrow we could play again and I could ask Elizabeta for real tea?"

With the absence of tears lurking in the girl's eyes, Ludwig felt much better, but he was still uncomfortable. He was not sure he really _wanted _to play tea party again tomorrow, especially since he just really wanted to go home with Gilbert, but when Lilie looked at him like that, he knew he would feel terrible for refusing her. After all, he didn't want her to hate him. "I-I guess that sounds good…I could ask _Bruder _for the treats."

And that was all Lilie really seemed to want. She absolutely beamed at the boy, who blushed in return, and nodded enthusiastically. "_Ja, ja!_ That would be very nice! Maybe we could even have it outside if it's sunny."

"That sounds good," Ludwig agreed. And he really meant it. It was just a little too pink in the room for his own comfort, and if they were outside then he wouldn't feel like he was invading Liechtenstein's personal space.

So the two went about their miniature tea party, Ludwig pretending to drink the tea along with Lilie, though he stayed mostly quiet and let the girl do most of the talking. She and her toys were very polite and Ludwig found that he did not mind so much being with Lilie. He and Otto had a rather nice time, and soon, the boy even opened up enough to talk about some of the things he had seen while in France. He was rather pleased that Lilie was such a willing listener to boot, and soon the two children were giggling and having a rather lovely time.

But just as Lilie was telling a story about something funny a maid named "Feli" did several weeks ago, the door to Lilie's room opened. The two children quickly turned around, startled, and watched as a rather upset looking Prussian stormed it.

Without much of a word, Gilbert came stalking in and quickly picked up Ludwig, who in turned, quickly snatched up Otto. "Time for bed, West." The albino's usually chipper self seemed to be nowhere around, and Ludwig found himself being carried out of the room quickly.

"Good night, Lilie!" he called over his brother's should and tried to smile at the girl.

Liechtenstein also looked quite surprised at suddenly having her quests taken from her, but she gave a gentle wave back to her new friend. "Goodnight," she smiled weakly, looking a bit frightened.

Before Ludwig could actually get worried about the girl, as his brother whisked him away down the hall, he noticed Miss Hungary going into Liechtenstein's room. That was good. At least Hungary would be able to help Lilie if she was still shocked at Gilbert's sudden entrance. Though the boy still felt bad that he wasn't able to help the girl clean up the mess he'd helped make. He'd have to make it up to her some time.

But there was no time to think much on that, because Gilbert threw open the door to their own room and slammed it shut again once they were inside. The albino was muttering something that Ludwig did not understand, and did not really seem to know what he was doing at the moment. It really scared the young child.

Ludwig watched as his brother sat him down on the bed before he stormed off in one direction of the room, untying his tie and shrugging off his coat. Prussia kept muttering something, and from the vicious snarls that escaped his brother's lips every once and a while, the little blonde knew it was nothing good. So, not wanting to be a bother, the boy just sat and watched as his brother took off his vest and slipped off his shoes and leggings.

When Gilbert turned around again, scowl still heavily resting on his lips, his red eyes widened for a moment when they landed on the boy. It was almost as though he had forgotten that Ludwig was in the room at all, and the child wasn't so sure he liked that idea. What was wrong with his big brother? Had something bad happened? Had Austria made Gilbert sad again? Although Ludwig usually liked Roderich, there were still times the brunette made him sad because he made Gilbert so upset.

It took a moment before the scowl lessoned on the albino's features and he came and sat down on the bed next to his brother. Ludwig waited to see what the other would do, but when Gilbert just opened up his arms, the boy gladly scooted into his brother's embrace. After all, the older nation seemed in desperate need of a hug, and at the moment, Ludwig was all too willing to give him one.

"What's wrong, _Bruder_?" the boy asked gently.

He felt Gilbert's arms tighten around him, but he did not move. "It's nothing, West, just…well…it looks like we're going to have to stay here a little bit longer than I'd previously thought."

"Oh." So it _was _Roderich's fault. That was too bad. But Ludwig did not mind staying here if it meant that his brother was also staying with him. It was good to have Gilbert with him.

The two Germans stayed that way for a moment longer before the Prussian sighed. "It's getting late, West. Why don't you go get ready for bed, _ja_? Your clothes are over there in the pack."

The blonde nodded and hopped off of the bed and went to get his nightshirt. He directly went to the washroom to change, and as he did so, he wondered what he could do to make his brother feel better. After all, Gilbert had made him feel better lots of times, shouldn't he at least try to return the favor? It was worth a try, anyway. The only problem that Ludwig was facing was the fact that he had no idea what he could do for the older nation.

When he was finished, Ludwig came out to see his brother dressed in only his pants, looking worn out at best. Though the man did seem to brighten a bit when he saw his little brother come in. "All ready for bed, West?" It sounded like he was trying to force himself to act cheerful, but Ludwig could still hear the strain in his brother's voice, could still see the tension in his shoulders.

"Yes," the boy nodded before he went over and crawled onto the bed. It was hard considering that the bed itself was so tall, but he managed it, and once he was on, he grabbed Otto and snuggled the puppy close to his chest. For some reason, Gilbert's face seemed to have softened and he came and sat down next to his brother.

"Let's get you all tuck in," his voice was uncharacteristically soft and mild, but Ludwig had gotten used to it. Secretly, he loved it. His brother never spoke like that to anyone else, just him, and it made him feel very special. Very loved.

Together the two brothers crawled under the covers after Gilbert blew out most of the candles. Once they were situated, the Prussian made sure his brother was tucked in properly before laying down himself with a sigh. Knowing that his brother was still a little upset, Ludwig wiggled free of the covers and sat up. Gilbert peeled open one eye to see what his little brother was doing.

"Here," the little blonde said, holding Otto out to the kingdom.

Frowning in confusion, Gilbert took the offered stuffed animal and looked at his brother, bewilderment dancing in the ruby eyes. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Suddenly thinking his plan ridiculous, Ludwig blushed spectacularly and began to worry to covers around him with his hands. "It's...um…well, you seem sad and I thought…I thought you might need Otto because he always makes me feel better and…umm…I-I just thought you might need him."

The albino looked at his brother with an odd expression on his face before looking down at the toy. A very gentle smile rested on the Prussian's lips and he gave the puppy a hug. Ludwig watched with satisfaction as his brother did, truly believing that Otto had once again helped save the day, when Gilbert suddenly reached out and took the blonde in his arms too.

Without waiting for the boy to protest, Gilbert slid back down under the covers and held his brother in one arm and the puppy in the other. "Thank you, Ludwig…I think I needed a hug."

Flushing, the little blonde nodded once. "Y-your welcome."

The initial embarrassment soon melted away as Ludwig's eyes became heavier and heavier with sleep and as he just relaxed into his brother's embrace. While in his big brother's arms he did not feel so very afraid or lonely or any of the other bad things he'd felt when he'd been away from Gilbert. While with his big brother he always felt safe and loved, and Gilbert helped the sadness he always felt over Ida not hurt quite so much.

Yes, Ludwig loved Gilbert with all his little heart and he was pleased that he could help make his big brother feel better too. Little did the child know that despite all of his efforts to be good, to make Gilbert happy as well, that it was because of _him _that his brother's heart was in pain, and that it was because of _him _that the future looked troublesome to many people.

But as it was, he did not know that, and so he had a peaceful night's sleep, happy and warm in big brother Prussia's arms, dreaming about tea parties and sunshine.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Okay, so yeah, the interaction between Ludwig and Lilie is almost sickeningly cute, but I'd really have it no other way. Haha! I find their friendship absolutely adorable and I can't help myself when I write them. And yes, Ludwig did enjoy his tea party. It's totally a manly thing! Haha. I could see him tolerating it and coming to at least enjoy the conversation and the treats. What else is he supposed to do when his only other friend besides his brother is a little girl? XD

**Next Up:** More to do with the Congress of Vienna, and Gilbert and Ludwig will have more brotherly bonding time. ^^

'**Nother Note: **Okay, so many of you out there might not care about this, but I just figure out how to see who all is reading this story, and I have people from 62 different countries/nations reading this! That's AWESOME! :D Seriously, I think that's pretty wicked awesome, so thanks everyone who's reading this across the world! And what I really think is neat is the fact that the next highest percentage of people that are reading this besides U.S. and Canada (you guys are rocking it up there, by the way) are Germans! :D So if I may ask, how are you guys liking how I'm writing your history so far? Hope it's okay.

So, I feel like I should give a shout out to all of you guys, so I'll do it in order as it appears to me: Thanks everyone from the U.S., Germany, Canada, U.K., New Zealand, Sweden, Russian Federation, Thailand, Brazil, Romania, Belgium, Mexico, Italy, Finland, Indonesia, Malaysia, China, Japan, Chile, Switzerland, Poland, Denmark, Philippines, Hong Kong, Estonia, Norway, Netherlands, Turkey, Costa Rica, France, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Bulgaria, Singapore, Latvia, Costa Rica, Israel, Spain, Ireland, Argentina, Vietnam, Venezuela, Brazil, Libyan Arab Jamahiriya, Puerto Rico, Luxembourg, Greece, Isle of Man, Republic of Korea, Taiwan, Australia, Czech Revar, United Arab Emirates, Brunei Darussalam, Egypt, Ukraine, Slovenia, Columbia, Oman, India, Hungary, and Bolivia!

Isn't this cool? I really think it's neat to see who all is out there. Hetalia brings people together: FACT! ^^ (if I missed your country, just let me know…there are so many, you know?)

Also, thanks to all my reviews, whether they're signed in or anonymous, and everyone who's fav'd this or put it on story alert. ^^ You all make me incredibly happy!


	19. Chapter 17: Part 1: Congress of Vienna

**Chapter Seventeen: **

**Part One: Congress of Vienna **

**1814**

Gilbert sat next to Prince Karl August von Hardenburg and Wilhelm von Humboldt quietly as the floor opened up for Prince Klemens Wenzel von Metternich to speak once again. The albino's sharp eyes slid over to take a sideway glance at Austria as the other country watched his prince. Von Metternich was a good politician and good at trying to keep everyone happy, but even still, Prussia watched for any sign of treachery. He did not really expect anyone would treat him unfairly at this congress—he was one of the four heroes after all!— but he watched for it all the same. He did not want to get cheated out of anything. Not this time.

Russia was there, sitting to the left, listening intently as von Metternich spoke with his serene smile firmly in place, and so was Britain. To the right was France and his Louis XVIII, both having taken the long journey to see what would be decided for them. Prussia made sure to keep an extra eye on them, even though France still looked terrible after having lost the war. Poland was also there, looking nervously about, wondering what would become of him this time while Russia was once again breathing down his neck. Denmark and Norway sat together looked anxious with the looming, stoic Sweden nearby and uneasy Finland watching. Switzerland sat near the back, keeping his ears open, trying not to get too involved while the Netherlands was glaring intently at the wall, as though by doing so he would increase his chances of creating a better situation for himself while his sister, Belgium, looked highly uncomfortable while Luxembourg just looked pale. Spain sat on the edge of his seat, waiting to see if his own king would come back to the throne, and Portugal was also there, watching with interest, wondering what would become of Europe now that Napoleon was out of the picture.

It was one of the largest assemblies of nations that Prussia had seen in years, and it made him a bit on edge. It was not just because there were so many nations sitting together in the same space, but more to the fact that most of those other nations were looking at _him_. Of all the nations in the room, it was Austria, Prussia, Russia, and Great Britain that everyone looked to in this confusing time. _They _were the heroes of the war. But even though Gilbert loved the attention and the adoration, it was the first time in his life that the other nations recognized him as a real power. He had finally done it, he had finally become one of the most powerful and influential nations in the world!

And although he rejoiced in his success, adoring the power he had and how everyone recognized that he _was _indeed one of the most powerful kingdoms in the world, there was a part of him that wasn't so happy about this. There were so many nations there, but it troubled him to know that his little brother had not been allowed to be there. At the moment, Ludwig represented a fairly large amount of land, all of the other German kingdoms having not produced a personification again, but he was not permitted to be present during the meeting, even though he had several representatives from his lands as well. It seemed a bit unusual to Gilbert's more human side, but then Prussia pushed that all back, wanting nothing more than to be content and bask in his own glory.

When von Metternich called for a close to the meeting that day, everyone seemed to slump forward just a bit, like they had been sitting too long for a painting. Chattering followed as men from each nation began to speak to one another to discuss what they thought about the day's negotiations. The nations themselves also talked to their own people and to one another, but while everyone was busy, Gilbert stood up and easily slipped out of the room without being noticed.

Once out in the halls, the albino sighed in relief. While being in the thick of battle did not trouble Gilbert, there was something about being pressed close together in a roomful of people that aggravated him for hours at a time. Meetings such as these were always so tiring, and when adding on the fact that you're sitting cramped and too close to a bunch of completely unawesome, sweaty men… it was nearly intolerable.

Shaking his head, trying to dismiss the unpleasant reminiscing, the kingdom stretched his arms before he walked outside into the chilling September air. He took several deep breaths. The open air was so much better than the stale, hot air of the meeting room, by far, and it calmed his fraying nerves.

He stood a moment, unsure of where his little brother was, but he did not have to wonder long when he heard shrieks of laughter coming from the back of the house. Smiling, Gilbert followed the giggles until he came upon his brother and Liechtenstein playing tag in the garden. They looked so happy and carefree that the older nation hated to interrupt their game so he simply watched them for a few minutes as they chased each other about.

It took the children a full ten minutes before they noticed the Prussian standing there, leaning against the tree with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. But once they did notice, Ludwig froze mid-step, his blue eyes brightening when they saw his brother. "Gilbert!" the child exclaimed before quickly dashing over to the older kingdom. "Gilbert! Are you done for the day? You don't have to work anymore?"

Laughing, the albino knelt down next to his brother and gave him a quick hug, even though the child was dripping with sweat. "Keseseses! West, you'll need a bath before dinner," he chuckled.

"_Ja_, I know," the child wiggled out of his brother's embraces, clearly not wanting to get the others uniform dirty. "But are you done for the day?" he asked again.

Lilie trotted over to the two and smiled up at Gilbert prettily. "_Ja_, I'm done for the day." Gilbert ruffled his brother's hair affectionately, earning a squawk of disapproval from the boy. Turning to Liechtenstein, Gilbert grinned brightly. "And how are you doing today, Miss Lilie?" he inquired. "Are you keeping an eye on West for me?"

The girl giggled before she nodded, her braided hair bouncing. "_Ja mein Herr_. We were just playing tag. Do you want to play?"

Gilbert laughed outright. "_Nein, _I'm afraid not today. Perhaps some other time? Right now it's getting a bit late, don't you think? We should get inside and get ready for dinner."

"Okay," both children chirped before looking at each other. Lilie began to giggle while Ludwig just turned red in embarrassment.

The older nation couldn't help but snicker at his brother's own awkwardness. "All right, _kinder_, inside with you!" Standing up, the Prussian pretended like he was going to start attacking the children and ran after them. Both little blondes shrieked in pretend panic before they both raced to the house, giggling the whole way while the older nation watched, unable to keep the smile off his face.

Despite them speeding ahead, both children were polite enough to wait at the door for Gilbert before going inside. Once the three entered the house, Hungary came around the corner, obviously looking for the two little ones. "Oh!" she exclaimed once she saw the three Germans. "There you all are. I was wondering where you'd gotten to. Come here, Lilie," she held out her hand to the girl. "We should wash up before dinner."

The little girl nodded, but turned back to Ludwig. Before the boy could have reacted at all, Lilie pushed his shoulder forcefully before scurried off to Elizabeta's side, calling over her shoulder, "You're it!"

Ludwig looked surprised for a moment before he began pouting, scowling at his giggling playmate. "That's cheating," he muttered.

"We never actually said we quit the game," Liechtenstein stated smartly, twirling her dress around innocently. "So next time we play, you're it first."

Still looking a bit putout, the boy nodded after a moment. "Fine. I'm it."

Gilbert and Elizabeta snickered before they each took their respective charge away to get cleaned up.

Once they were in their room, Prussia called for water to be drawn for his brother. "Did you have fun today, West? Besides Liechtenstein winning the game of tag?" He couldn't help but tease his brother.

"Is there really ever a winner in tag?" Ludwig snorted.

There were times when Ludwig could get so grumpy and serious that it really made Gilbert want to tease the boy. Whether as Gerwig or Ludwig, one thing seemed a constant about the boy, and that was the fact that he was a sore loser; and as his older brother, the albino felt it was his duty to harass the younger nation as much as possible to help lighten the situation. Although Gilbert couldn't really blame the boy for not liking to lose. He himself _despised _the very idea of losing at anything.

"Come on, West," Gilbert chuckled. "It was only a game. And besides, you _always _win at everything. Not winning this one time won't kill you. You really should let Lilie win more often."

"But the objective in any scenario is to win. That's the whole point. If you weren't supposed to win, why bother playing at all?" the blonde asked, staring up at his brother, still looking putout.

It was in that moment that Gilbert decided that his brother, even now, was probably the worst loser in the world. He made mental note to keep an eye out for the kid later on in life should he be propelled into some sort of conflict. Heaven only knew what Ludwig would be capable of when he was older. As Holy Rome, the boy had been bad enough; the albino could only hope that as Germany the boy would be a little better.

Shaking his head, mildly amused, the older nation sighed. "While that is true in most circumstances, West, it doesn't really matter all the time in games. Sometimes letting a girl win can be just as rewarding as actually winning…depending on the circumstance, that is," he stressed. "Allowing a girl to win even though you are clearly more awesome and amazing at a game is one of those times, because that's a gentlemanly thing to do."

The little boy still didn't look too convinced, but nodded anyway. Gilbert decided that he would seriously have to teach his brother how to behave in a more than just civil manner when it came to friends. Thus far Ludwig had proven to be rather stiff and to the book, much like Roderich, except the boy seemed genuinely at a loss as to what was acceptable and what was not. The albino was just thankful that little Liechtenstein had thus far proven patient when dealing with his brother's…less than sociable attitude at times.

When a servant announced that the water was ready, Gilbert banished his brother to the bathroom, threatening that if the boy did not wash quickly, he'd be forced to come in and scrub Ludwig himself. That had gotten a rise out of the smaller German, who quickly, yet calmly, made his way to the washroom before shutting the door and locking it. Prussia had just had to laugh. Ludwig was too much fun to tease.

And once the boy came out ten minutes later, cleaned from top to bottom, dressed in his best, the two walked out of their shared chamber and tried to meet with the others before dinner. Before they had made it to the parlor where all of the countries had assembled before dinner, the two brothers were stopped by Austria.

"Ah, I'm glad I found you two before dinner," the brunette said, looking a bit anxious; probably because he was hosting so many countries.

"Oh, _ja_?" Gilbert was immediately suspicious. Whenever Roderich wanted to talk to him alone, it was usually not something the albino was not going to like. "What can we do for you?"

"Well, it's not really for me," the Austrian seemed to sense the strain in the air. "Actually, I was confronted by several of the German representatives after the meeting tonight." Ludwig seemed to perk up at this. "Since they could not find you after as well, Prussia, they asked if I could not persuade you to allow them to meet their personification. They are clearly interested, especially with everything that's happened over the last several years."

"I'll get to meet some of my own leaders?" Ludwig spoke up before Gilbert had a chance. "Does that mean I'll get to be my own country now?"

The two adults stared down at the child, each with horrified expressions before they were able to school their features again. "You will be allowed to meet with your princes and dukes," Austria nodded, "but I would not get yourself too excited about becoming a country quite yet." He tried to smiled, to reassure, but it came out more like a grimace.

The child frowned. "Why won't I be allowed to be my own country?" Ludwig asked stubbornly, not at all liking what he was being told.

"Well, it's not really up to us, West," Gilbert tried to sooth his brother before his temper got the better of him. The two older countries remembered how volatile the child could be from many years before. "The humans are the ones that decide whether or not a personification becomes a country or remains a colony or confederation and—"

"But I want to be a country," the boy persisted, suddenly looking much older than he was. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I think that if I met with my own leaders about the issue, we could come up with a plan that would—"

"Ah, yes," Austria interrupted, looking not at all calm. "Yes, perhaps you may talk to them later tonight." Once more, he tried to smile for the child's sake, but it did not reach his eyes. "But now it would be rude of us to keep the others waiting. I don't believe you've met everyone here, have you, _kleiner_?"

The boy looked a bit upset for being interrupted so rudely, but did not say anything about it. Instead, the three Germans made their way into the parlor where the other countries were chatting before the meal. The moment Prussia and Austria came into the room, the general conversation died for a moment before everyone began chatting again. The two German kingdoms seemed a bit too pleased with the respect their presence commanded over the room.

"Come on, West," Gilbert pushed his brother along gently. "You should probably go meet some of your neighbors."

The albino steered his little brother through the room until they came to stop in front of three countries. "Gentlemen; Miss," Prussia said, his voice sounding stiff and strained, though almost insufferably superior. "May I introduce to you my brother, the former Confederation of the Rhine?"

The little boy stared up a long way so that he could get a proper look at one of the nations who had spiked hair, while the other man there that seemed much younger shifted much more nervously. The only one who seemed happy was the girl that contrasted with both of her companions very sharply as she smiled brightly down at the boy. "West," Gilbert went on, "This is _Luxemburg_, _Niederlande, und Belgien_."

The taller of the two men nodded his head ever so slightly. "Good evening."

The younger also nodded his head. "Hallo, little one," Luxembourg gave a nervous smile before it slipped off of his face. His blue eyes kept darting between the Netherlands and Prussia anxiously.

The girl looked very excited— she almost seemed like she would bounce up and down on her heels— but kept her excitement down due to the tall nation's intimidating presence. "_Guten Tag_, _kleiner!_" she beamed.

"What can I do for you this evening, _Pruisen_?" the Netherlands asked shortly, cutting off any joy that might have been had with the situation due to his sister's glee. "Negotiations and deals are better left for the council room."

Gilbert growled, not at all liking the attitude he was receiving from the other, _lesser _country. "I wasn't going to debate with you, _Niederlande_, I merely thought that it would be nice for my brother to become properly introduced to his neighbors, considering he hadn't been able to for the past several years."

The other nation snorted, but said nothing else. Luxembourg, on the other hand, looked slightly relieved that no one wanted to debate yet again. "Of course you weren't!" Belgium interjected smoothly. "It is very nice to meet you, _kleiner_," she smiled radiantly.

While Gilbert was pleased that at least one nation seemed interested in his brother, the frown he saw slip onto the small duchy's face concerned him greatly. "You know, little Confederation," Luxembourg began, "you look very similar to your predecessor, Holy Roman Empire. Whe—"

"Of course he does," Gilbert waved off the other impatiently. "The two control the same land and they would have been brothers had it not been for…certain circumstances."

Luxembourg seemed terribly upset and frightened that he'd offended the Prussian, and instantly averted his gaze away from the smaller boy in order to inspect the floor. "O-of course, _mein Herr_. I-I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am!" Prussia snapped. "The awesome me is _always _right."

It was after this outburst that the Netherlands seemed to have become too disgusted with Prussia's behavior, so with only a snort, he turned and stalked away, dragging his sister along with him.

"_Arschloch,_" the albino muttered as they left before he turned to walk in the opposite direction.

"It was nice to meet you," Ludwig said hurriedly in order to rush after his brother. Neither brother noticed how Luxembourg seemed to sag with relief once the two were gone. The small duchy just knew that things would not turn out well for him while being stuck between the Netherlands and his sister and Prussia and his new little brother.

Still a bit irritated, Gilbert went to the northern nations next. Denmark was there talking rather heatedly with Sweden and Norway. Norway looked annoyed, while Denmark looked jumpy, and Sweden…well, he always just looked stern. Finland was also standing nearby with the ever looming Russia keeping watch.

Walking over to the Nordic states, Prussia straightened his back as he fancily flipped his cap to the others. "Good evening," he said rather dramatically, before smirking viciously at the trio. "I've come to introduce my new little brother to you all. This is the former Confederation of the Rhine. West, this is Sweden, Demark, and Norway. And that is Finland standing by Russia."

"_Dobryi vecher, Lapooshka!_" Russia called cheerfully. Finland frowned and backed away from the empire and closer to the other Nordic nations.

"Nice to finally meet you, kid," Denmark nodded, flashing a smirk at the small child. "I'm your northern neighbor, _Danmark_."

"Hallo," Ludwig managed, but before anyone else could properly introduce themselves, another nation came butting in, his blonde hair swaying over his green eyes.

"Like, is this the new confederation?" he asked, ignoring the irritated frowns around him. "I am _Polska _, and I live next to _Prusy_ and _Rosja_." He smiled down at the boy before it quickly changed into a frown. "Like, couldn't you have found something better for him to wear, _Prusy_?"

While Ludwig looked confused, Gilbert scowled. It was enough for the other nation to back off a bit now that the former Teutonic state was a major power. "You won't have to deal with _Polen _much," the albino whispered not too quietly to his brother. "He's my neighbor."

"And he should be bothering you anymore," Russia spoke up helpfully, the smile on his face sending waves of dread throughout the other countries.

"Ah, _moi_, little one," Finland spoke up while Russia drug Poland away for a "talk". "I am _Suomi_. I live by _Venäjä _and _Ruotsi_. I'm not sure I'll get to see you very often, but I am very glad to meet you." The shorter man smiled kindly at the child.

"I'm _Sverige_," the tall, severe looking country said simply, nodding to the child once, readjusting his glasses thoughtfully.

"I am _Norge_," the last country introduced himself calmly, looking slightly disinterested.

Gilbert looked down at his brother to find that the boy looked a little overwhelmed with meeting everyone. But to his credit, Ludwig seemed to be desperately trying to place names to each personification and categorize them as best as he could. It was a lot to take in, Gilbert realized, but his brother seemed to be doing a fair job of it thus far. The kingdom could not help but puff up a bit with pride.

"I-it's nice to meet you all," the tiny blonde managed to get out.

"So tell us, little one," Finland, apparently the only one that seemed willing to talk, leaned forward to get a better look at the little German. "How are you liking the congress so far? Have you sat in on any of the meetings yet?"

Before the child could answer, the Prussian was quick to speak up. "Ah, no, he hasn't gotten a chance to attend yet. He's still a bit small to be sitting in on every meeting, don't you think? _Ja_, but I'm sure you'll all see him around soon enough."

At this, Denmark got a rather wild look in his eyes. "So who's going to be watching out for him? If you and Austria are too busy, what with you two being big shots and all, I could always take care of the little—"

"_Nein,_" Gilbert said flatly, making sure to put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "_Nein_, I think Roderich and I will be able to look after him, _danke __Dänemark_," he growled, just to make sure the other knew to stay away from _his _little brother.

The other country merely laughed, slapping Norway on the back as he did so, much to the smaller man's displeasure. "Haha!" he laughed. "Can't blame a man for trying, _Preussen_. No harm done."

While Denmark continued to be the only one amused, Gilbert decided that it was time to move on, away from the Nordics. There was still one more neighbor his brother had to meet before dinner. "Come on, West. Last one for now," he encouraged, guiding his brother swiftly away from the hungry stares of Denmark, Sweden, and Russia.

At last, they came upon the final nation on Gilbert's list. The two brothers came to stop before Switzerland who was talking quietly with Britain. The Swiss nation turned and watched the two Germans approach cautiously as he stood still next to the other European powerhouse. From the shorter blonde's stance, Gilbert could tell that the other was on edge with everything going on.

The same as before, Prussia nodded to the other two countries. "Gentlemen. I would like to introduce you, _Schweiz_, my brother, the former Confederation of the Rhine."

The neutral country gazed down the young personification with interest for a moment before nodding politely. "_Gueten Abig_," he said. "I am _d'Schwiiz._"

Ludwig stared up at the other country for a long moment, frowning. "You talk funny," the child said after another minute. "Why do you pronounce things funny?"

Gilbert couldn't help but snort, though he did try to hide it. Britain also seemed to find the situation amusing, though he vehemently tried to keep it from showing on his face. "You should really teach the boy manners, Prussia," Britain condemned, though with a smirk.

Vash, on the other hand, blushed lightly, looking highly annoyed. "I was speaking in Swiss-German," he mumbled.

"Swiss-German?" Ludwig asked, cocking his head to the side. "It sounds so similar to regular German. Why don't you just speak that instead? People might be able to understand you better."

At the bluntness, Britain immediately clamped a hand over his mouth to contain his laughter, though he tried to cover it up by feigning a cough. Gilbert, on the other hand, burst out laughing. Switzerland just continued to look exasperated. "We all have our different dialects," he tried to explain with as much dignity as he could to the small child.

"Keseseseses! That was rude, West. Apologize to _Herr Schweiz_," he ordered, though not very sternly.

The child turned his blue gaze from the annoyed Swiss to his brother and then back, looking mildly perplexed. "I am sorry, _Herr Schweiz_," he apologized sincerely. "I did not mean to offend you. I was just asking a question."

"_Ja_, well, you should think through what you say before you say it," the smaller country huffed. "You could really offend someone just saying whatever comes into your head."

"I'm sorry," Ludwig apologized again.

About that time, Austria called for dinner, and all of the countries began filing into the dining room. Gilbert picked up his little brother so that the small boy would not be stepped on by the other hungry nations. With the boy in his arms, Prussia strutted into the dining room and sat down, radiating pride and self-confidence now that he was surrounded by so many nations.

The four great powers were all seated at what seemed to be the four corners of the table, as though reminding the others there that they were the ones with the authority. Austria sat stiffly in his seat, looking out over all of his many guests with Hungary keeping watch out over everyone, while helping Liechtenstein with her silverware and serviette. The little girl, on the other hand, sat in between her two guardians quietly, though she seemed desperate to talk to Ludwig, who was very close, just on the other side of Hungary and the other woman, Portugal.

Once everyone was properly seated, the food was brought out and Roderich signaled for everyone to begin their meal. Each nation began digging in, their appetites being quite ravenous after the long day of negotiations. From across Austria, Britain made sure that his serviette was in place and his silver was all arranged before he began filling his plate. "This is a lovely spread, Austria." He inclined his head politely.

"Oh yes! Everything looks delicious!" Belgium chirped from England's right, smiling at Elizabeta.

"Thank you," Hungary answered for her husband, smiling kindly at the other two nations. "I hope everything is satisfactory."

"It all looks quite good," Russia nodded. "Though I am noticing that you have nothing to drink but water and wine. That is a little disappointing."

"Drinks for the gentlemen can be had after dinner," Austria said shortly, not wanting to get into another debate about vodka at the table.

"Will there be beer?" Prussia spoke up, speaking through a mouth full of food. "I hope so. God, I haven't had decent beer in a while!"

"Your manners, please," Austria growled. "No one wants to see your half chewed food."

Before Gilbert could rebuttal, Denmark, to Russia's left, ended up flinging a potato onto Norway's lap. "Haha! Sorry about that, _Norge_. It just sort of jumped off of there!"

The smaller Nordic nation growled something quietly before wiping himself off that sounded suspiciously like, "And to think, I've lived with you this long without killing you," though Denmark didn't seem to catch the other's foul mood as he continued to snicker.

Next to Norway, Sweden watched the other two with distain clearly written on his face, though he kept quiet and to himself.

"Kesesesese! That looked awesome!" Gilbert laughed. "You should fling something over at the Netherlands! Get the stick out of his ass."

"You. Will. Not," the other glared viciously at the albino. In between the two, Luxembourg sunk lower into his seat.

"You are all behaving like children," France snorted, making both Switzerland and Finland uncomfortable being next to him. "Honestly, you should all try to acting more mature."

Both Denmark and Poland began shivering as the evil aura coming off of Russia in waves that seemed to chill the air. "So, _Frantsiya_," the large empire smiled. "How is your leg? I never got a chance to ask you earlier, but I noticed that you still have a bit of a limp, _da_?"

That sufficiently shut up the losing nation, but it did nothing to help ease tensions. Russia was still smiling eerily while the Netherlands was still insulted by Prussia's earlier comment. "I don't think that is appropriate dinner conversation, _Russland_," Austria spoke up, wanting to keep the peace while everyone was in _his_ house.

"Ah, forgive me, _Frantsiya,_" the large man bowed his head once, though no trace of remorse could be identified in his features. "I had not thought that you would still be sensitive to talk about your wounds." France nodded, staring down at his plate as though that would be enough to shut everyone else up, but the empire went on. "Your hair does seem different though, _Frantsiya_. Have you changed it recently?"

That sent both Prussia and Denmark into a laughing fit, which only increased once they saw France flush. "Is this all really necessary?" Austria barked, clearly annoyed.

"This puts me in mind, Austria," Switzerland looked up from his food. "Where is Italy Veneziano this evening? Or Italy Romano for that matter?"

Austria scowled while Spain, in his seat next to Belgium and Britain, blushed guiltily. Portugal only smirked from her seat between Germany and Hungary, enjoying her brother's discomfort. "The Italians are currently visiting their own country. They are to spend a year or so there to reconnect with their people before being brought back to report to us," Austria explained haughtily, looking down his nose at his greatly disliked neighbor.

"It seems a little unfair that they are not here considering that it's being decided what will happen to them." Vash crossed his arms smartly, frowning right back at the pianist unafraid.

"_Bruder_, will I get to speak at the next meeting, too?" Ludwig whispered to Gilbert.

The albino nearly choked. "Uh…W-we'll get everything straightened out for you, West. Don't worry."

"But I want to be able to talk about my side too," the child insisted. "I don't want everyone else to decide what happens to me without me being able to get a word in!"

"We'll get it taken care of." Gilbert tried to hush his brother's voice down. "Don't worry about it, West. I'll see to it all." From the other side of the table, France watched the brothers, looking highly apprehensive.

While the child pouted, the dinner conversation began drifting away into different little bickering circles. Soon Sweden and Denmark were growling back and forth to each other about Norway, while Prussia and the Netherlands got into a rather heated debate over Luxembourg, who— poor soul—was trapped between the two. Portugal and Spain began sniping at one another from across the table, resulting in another bet between the two about their overseas colonies. Austria and Hungary also began snarling back and forth with Switzerland, while Russia was happily creeping Poland, France, and Finland out with his talk of what happened to anyone that tried to invade him during the winter. Belgium was looking about helplessly while her brother and Prussia fought, while the two children sat silently, watching the adults around them arguing.

"That's enough!" Britain finally came to his boiling point, slamming his hands down on the table. "Honestly! I find it terribly sad that the children at the table are behaving with more decorum than any of you!"

Before anyone could have defended themselves or even apologized, Russia was once again all too happy to speak up. "Ah, yes! That reminds me, Britain, how is dear America lately?" The island nation paled in mute disbelief as the empire continued to smile on unconcerned. "I have not seen the child lately, but I believe he has not been doing so well as of late. Last I received word from him, he was being attacked by some _brute_ nation."

All trace of the gentleman fled Britain in an instant and he stood up, face red and eyes narrowed. "Why you bloody bast—!"

"Dear America," Russia cut him off. "I've always like the boy. It is sad that he has such poor relations." The big man gave a meaningful look towards both France and England.

And dinner never went back to a civil arrangement. The tensions between everyone was so great that whenever a topic would be brought up, it would inevitably offend someone or led to another country insulting another just to get a rise from them. It got so bad that eventually Hungary and Belgium stood and left the table with the children—Gilbert had been too busy screaming at the Netherlands at the time.

So that night, Ludwig went to sleep in Lilie's room, away from all of the adults. The two little ones kept quiet that evening, wondering what would happen to them with their fates in the hands of those arguing adults.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the later update. I've had midterms and then I've been sick the past week and a half, so I haven't felt like staring at the computer screen for very long. Well, hope you liked this even though it had a lot of history packed into it and a lot of fighting. This chapter was necessary so that you know the history behind events later on.

**History: **Karl August von Hardenburg and Wilhelm von Humboldt were the two representatives for Prussia at the Congress of Vienna. King Fredrich Wilhelm III was there, but he stayed behind the scenes with everything. Prince Klemens Wenzel von Metternich was the big man of the hour. He was an Austrian prince and he was the one that pretty much negotiated everything for everyone, helped settle the redrawing the map of Europe. He was even the one that suggested to Napoleon to marry the Austrian princess to help relations between the two countries before the French Empire within Europe fell.

Okay, so as far as the other countries are concerned, they were all there to basically redraw the map of Europe. So everyone's a little uptight and aggressive, with Sweden wanting to take Norway from Denmark, Russia wanting to take Finland and Poland, Prussia and the Netherlands fighting over dominance in Luxembourg, while the Netherlands was still trying to hold onto Belgium. Austria was fighting to keep control of the other German states and its Italian territory, Spain was wanting its king to be reinstalled since Joseph Bonaparte left, Portugal was there to see what was going on, France was also waiting to find out if their king would be reinstalled, Britain was there to take up some new territory since he was a winner, Switzerland wanted to remain neutral, Prussia wanted to take control or at least have dominance over the liberated German states (and Luxembourg) while Germany really wanted to be its own country.

*Phew!* There you go. A very quick sketch of what the hell's going on! ^^ This will come in handy later on.

**Language Reminders:**

**German: **_kleiner-_ little one. _Luxemburg_- Luxembourg. _Niederlande_- Netherland_. Belgien_- Belgium. _Arschloch- _asshole. _Polen-_ Poland. _Danke- _Thanks. _Dänemark_- Denmark. _Schweiz-_ Switzerland.

**Dutch: **_Pruisen- _Prussia. **Russian: **_Dobryi vecher, Lapooshka-_ Good evening, little paw. (so cute! XD ) **Polish: **_Polska-_ Poland. _Prusy_- Prussia. _Rosja_- Russia.

**Finnish: **_moi_- hello (like you say to little children or to someone you've known forever) _Suomi- _Finland. _Venäjä-_Russia._ Ruotsi_- Sweden. *** Thanks to my friend, Hopealanka for double-checking my Finnish! :D Thank you!

**Swedish: **_Sverige-_ Sweden. **Norwegian: **_Norge_-Norway. **Danish: **_Danmark-_ Denmark_. Preussen_- Prussia **Swiss-German: **_Gueten Abig-_ Good evening. _d'Schwiiz-_ Switzerland.

'**Nother quick note: **I forgot to mention that the Italians not being there and Germany being rebuffed will play a major part in later chapters as well. If you can't wait to find out, I suggest you look up later events in a history book, but if you don't, sit tight! :)


	20. Chapter 17: Part 2: Outcome

**Dedication: **This chapter is dedicated to my good friend Hopealanka who has been very sick recently.

**Chapter Seventeen:**

**Part Two: Outcome**

**1815**

Ludwig sat outside of the meeting room, kicking his feet anxiously as he waited for all of the adults to get out. To say he was not nervous would be a lie. Sweat covered his face and he felt the nearly uncontrollable urge to get up and start pacing back and forth, but he resisted. He did not want to do anything wrong and give the adults and leaders any reason to think of him as too childish or too immature. Impressions were very important, and the little German was determined to make a good one, to prove to everyone that he really was big enough to become his own country or at least to rule his lands by himself.

When an eternity passed—eternity being merely another five minutes— the doors opened and a flood of men came filing out. Ludwig hopped out of his chair almost immediately and began looking around for his diplomats and his brother. Several countries passed by him, Sweden looked down at him with his usual stern gaze, causing the little one to shrink back just a bit. Russia also came out and smiled that almost unsettling smile of his and ruffled the tiny blonde's hair affectionately before stalking off with an uncomfortable aura surrounding him that seemed to turn the air cold.

But before anyone else could say anything or look at the boy, Ludwig suddenly found himself being lifted into the air. It was such a surprise; the child couldn't help the yelp that escaped this throat. He did not stay tense too long as he knew almost instantly who it was that had grabbed him. "Keseseses! What are you doing here, West? Someone might step on you, you're so small."

The little blonde frowned, blushing furiously at the thought of being so small that no one would see him and would even step on him as if he were a little bug. "P-Please put me down, _B-Bruder_."

While Gilbert cackled loudly, soon enough the diplomats from the former Confederation of the Rhine came out. The old men stared down at their little personification resting in Prussia's arms. They looked a little disappointed even though a few of them tried to give him a smile, although they failed miserably. The old representatives never were ones to smile and laugh. To them, it was a little unsettling to see the personification of Prussia so close to their own. Who knew what the aggressive, war like powerhouse was whispering to the young nation when his own people were not present?

"Well, _Herr kleiner,_" Maximilian Graf von Montgelas said in what Ludwig supposed was to be a friendly tone, but it did not turn out that way. Ludwig couldn't stop himself from snuggling closer to his brother. Von Montgelas was scary looking. "It looks likes like you will become another confederation after all."

Von Montgelas soon left, looking slightly disappointed with von Wintzingerode before Ludwig could have even said anything at all. Once the humans were gone and everyone else had filed out of the conference room, the boy turned to look up at his brother expectantly. "Did I do something wrong, _Bruder?_" he asked quietly.

"Of course not," Gilbert snorted, looking very pleased with himself for some reason. "Those old timers don't know how good they've got it. They're just pissed that they didn't get their way is all. But their lucky that me and my government are so awesome to them."

The younger German tried to make sense of what his brother was even talking about, but it was hard since he had not been allowed to attend any of the meetings—which really wasn't fair in his mind. But as he slowly processed the words, he began to frown. "Y-you mean that they're mad because I won't get to be my own country?"

It seemed to take the kingdom a moment to actually understand what his brother was talking about, but once he did, his face took on a troubled expression. "Oh…uh…yeah, well…um, no. I guess you don't get to be your own country yet, West. But don't worry! Your awesome big brother will watch out for you."

Once again, the younger nation didn't seem so pleased. "Why can't I?"

It was a simply question, one that seemed pretty straightforward to the small child, but from the way Gilbert was acting, Ludwig had to assume that it was not quite so easy. "West," Prussia sighed after a moment. "I know that you're a strong kid— hell, you've survived under France!— but the problem is just that. You're a kid. You're too small to be getting caught up in ruling your own self just yet."

"I'm not really that small!" Ludwig protested. "I have a lot of states in my confederation, a lot of land, all of which do not have their own representatives except me. I-I can be big, _Bruder_! I can be strong and be my own country!"

The albino looked like he was caught between a rock and a hard place before he seemed to swallow any soft feelings he mind may have had and steeled himself into a stern countenance. Seeing this transformation let the child know that he was fighting a losing battle. "No, _Bruder_," the kingdom's tone was unusually firm. "I know you can be strong, but right now you can't be your own country. You're still too small and your peoples' governments still a bit too unstable at the moment. Austria and I will look after you," a sour look crossed the Prussian's face as he said this, but it was only for a second.

"So…where will I live?" Ludwig asked. If his brother and Austria were going to be looking out for him, did that mean that he'd have to live with one of them? He certainly could not live with both of them at the same time!

Prussia looked unusually tried, but he seemed determined. What this all was about, the boy did not know. But the kingdom turned and began walking back into the conference room. Ludwig had not been allowed inside, but he stared with wide-eyed wonder at everything before him. He could not believe that this was where it all had taken place that this is where the fate of Europe had rested for the past year.

Gilbert sat his brother down gently before sitting down himself and stared at the boy seriously. "Okay, West, here's what's going to happen." Ludwig sat on the edge of his seat, giving his brother his full attention. "You are now _Deutscher Bund_. You make up all of the German states that have no personification, and you even make up some territories that _do_. Austria and I are also a part of this confederation, but we are going to be the ones looking out for you and everyone."

"I don't understand," the blonde frowned. "If you're a part of what I've become, doesn't that mean that, in a way, I'm supposed to rule over you?"

Something flashed in ruby eyes, but the child could not tell what. Had he made Gilbert angry, or was it something else? The younger German could not tell what it was, but his brother recovered soon enough and smiled down at the blonde. Although it was not really what anyone would call a smile, it was more just a show of baring teeth. It slightly frightened the child.

"You're dominion is over the states that formerly resided in the Holy Roman Empire before his dissolution," Gilbert explained. "In almost every aspect, you have now filled in where he has left off. Although Austria and I are part of the confederation by name, we have joined to help keep you going, and to help govern you so that you can learn and hopefully grow and prosper for your people. Do you understand?"

Slowly, the boy nodded his head. Although it was all so confusing and it almost seemed impossible for him to understand, there was a part of him that thought he did get it, like he'd lived in such a situation before…but of course he hadn't. He couldn't even remember where he'd been born or his life before waking up in the woods before Gilbert found him.

Although over the past several years Ludwig had gotten the impression that he could almost feel things or remember events that he had never actually lived through. It was the strangest feeling, almost déjà vu but it wasn't, not really. Ludwig had often wanted to ask his brother what it was, but did not want to embarrass himself, and while he had tried to look up information on it, he's search had thus far been a failure. Could one actually see and feel experiences from their predecessors? Was it possible for him to have a few of Holy Roman Empire's memories?

But they were not memories, not really. Just vague feelings that every once and a while confused Ludwig, but never actually moved him enough to cause great concern or inquisitiveness. He was simply curious as to why he sometimes found himself thinking one way while connecting it to the Holy Roman Empire.

Ludwig had decided months ago that it was probably possible that he was feeling some of the repercussions of his predecessor's influence. After all, they both governed over the same land, and it was possible that the Holy Roman Empire had left his own mark upon the land and people and now Ludwig was not feeling that old control.

So now, as he sat before his brother, wondering why he seemed to understand the way this crazy, confusing system worked, he put it up there with the remaining influence from the Holy Roman Empire. Being the heir of an Empire was quite perplexing and tiring Ludwig was discovering, but he believed it was doing a fair job of it so far. The child knew that should he have any real, legitimate questions, not ones that he could not even explain properly, then he could always ask his big brother for help.

"Good," the albino went on, missing completely the philosophical discussion his little brother had had with himself. "As for living arrangements…Well, Austria and I are very busy, as are some of the others in the confederation, and need to be present in our own lands at all times. However, you will be living in your own home, in your own lands, along with Liechtenstein and Luxembourg."

"But I want to live with you!" Ludwig interjected immediately, blue eyes wide. "I thought that once I came back from France I could live with you again!"

Coquelicot eyes softened and a flash of pain crossed the kingdom's features for an instant before the face went grim. "West, I know that this is going to be hard—on both of us—but this is what the council's decided."

"But why?" the child asked again, not seeing any complications that could possibly arise from him living with his older brother. This was the only thing Ludwig had wanted since before France had ever come to take him away. It wasn't fair!

Gilbert sighed before running a hand through his niveous hair. "There's nothing more I'd rather do then take you away to Prussia this very instant, West, and fight back anyone who'd ever want to take you away from me. But there are rules that must be adhered to. Part of being your own nation, country or kingdom, is sometimes doing things _you _might not want to, but doing what needs to be done for your people and your lands. And while _I'd _like nothing more than for you to come live with me, we can't have that. The other countries would see it as my taking control and dominating you and your peoples. An idea like that is scary to them, especially with something like Napoleon hitting Europe again! Do you understand?" the Prussian asked gently.

Frustrated, angry tears welled up in the boy's eyes and he scowled darkly at the injustice of it all. "No," he said resentfully, willfully not seeing what was so plainly laid out before him.

The older brother sighed, running a frustrated hand once again through his hair. "Listen West, I know this isn't what either of us want, but we can't always get what we want. Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to. And right now, what's best for your people and land is for you to go along with this so that there's no more fighting. I'll still come see you almost every day, and you'll still have Liechtenstein to play with, _ja_?"

The little blonde pouted for a moment, scowling up at his brother before he looked away. "I…I guess you're right…"

"Of course I am," Prussia said almost instantly, but then softened. He must have realized that he was still talking to his little brother. "I'll still see you almost every day, West. And Austria and I are going to arrange times when you can come and stay at our houses, so it won't be that bad, right?"

"I guess not," the child surrendered. "But you _will_ come see me every day?"

"I will unless something urgent happens…and even then, know that it'd have to be something _big _to keep me away from seeing you!"

Standing up in his chair, the little boy jumped into his brother's lap and hugged the Prussian close. "I don't like this, _Bruder_…But I have to do it?"

With his arms around the albino, Ludwig could feel the other tense. "_Ja_, West. You have to do this…I'm sorry."

Holding his brother closer to him, Ludwig buried his face into his brother chest, not caring for the moment that he was not being very mature. All he wanted to do right now was have his brother all to himself. Because it seemed that soon enough, he wouldn't be able to have him around much…

**oOoOoOo**

The last day of the congress finally came, and soon all of the countries were off, leaving to go back home or to the battle. Netherlands and Belgium had had to rush home, while France was close behind, looking quite embarrassed and worried about his old emperor attacking again. The others that left were either quite pleased with the outcome of the gathering as a while or hated it. Still others there were in the middle, pleased some aspects of events while not liking others. But whatever their feelings on the matter, they were all anxious for Napoleon to no longer be a factor in causing concern so they could all just go home and relax for even a little while.

"Well, I suppose this went well," Britain said as he mounted his horse, his envoy ready to make the long journey towards England. "I daresay, the king will at least be pleased to have Hanover."

"Indeed," Roderich nodded politely. It had been a long day for the Austrian, seeing everyone off.

"I'm sure," Gilbert smiled up tightly at the redcoat. Hanover was a loss that the Prussian was quite annoyed over.

"You came out with a substantial amount of land, didn't you?" Arthur asked, not really looking all that interested, but seeming to think it polite to ask after bragging about his own piece of German territory.

"_Ja_," the albino nodded, unable to help the wolfish smile that lit his features. "I deserve it after everything France put me through."

"Yes, I suppose he did take a lot before, didn't he? Well, good then," the blonde nodded. "Well, I'm off to look in on the troops at Waterloo before I head back home. God, it feels like I haven't been there in ages!"

"War keeps many men from home," Prussia nodded before stepping back a pace. "_Auf Wiedersehen, Großbritannien_. Tell old von Blücher to kick some French ass for me!"

"Safe journey," Austria nodded once, frowning at his companion's language.

Although the redcoat looked exasperated with the crude statement, he did nod once. "I shall. Goodbye then." And with that, Arthur spurred his horse forward, riding away with his men right behind him.

Gilbert watched on, feeling anxious and frustrated that he wasn't going out on the field again to fight that bastard Napoleon. But he couldn't be in two places at once, and he needed to be here with West at the moment. Let Britain have the headache of running after the troops for a bit. Besides, Gilbert still had some business he needed to take care of here…

"Can we talk?" the Prussian said once the British were out of sight, grabbed Austria by the bicep. "By which I mean you _will _talk with me."

The brunette turned to regard the other German kingdom coolly, looking whole unimpressed by the slight display of aggression. "Gaining land back seems to have boosted your ego, _Preußen_," he said disinterestedly. "It shows with your pitiful demonstrate of barbaric belligerence."

The other growled low in his throat, but did not say anything. Instead, Gilbert dragged the aristocrat away, hardly noticing that the other was having a bit of a difficult time trying not to stumble. Once they were away from the house and in the garden, the albino turned on his host quickly before the other had a chance to open his mouth. "It's about West," he said simply.

Roderich, who had indeed begun to say something, snapped his mouth closed again quickly, taking a moment to think. "Oh?" he asked at last. "What about _Deutscher Bund_?"

"What do you think? He's unhappy with the outcome of the congress," Prussia snapped testily. "He's confused about everything that's going on, what exactly his function is as this new confederation, and more specifically, he's upset that he's not allowed to live with me."

The brunette's brow creased ever so slightly, his face becoming pensive. "This can't be helped, Gilbert, you know that."

The albino snorted in exasperation. "Sure, _I _understand that, but _he _doesn't. Come on, Roderich! He's still a child! He's too little to understand the complexities of government, especially since he's representing a collective of little states that have no personification but him. Isn't there some way that—"

"Absolutely not!" the Austria hissed. "You know perfectly well that if Ludwig _ever _lived with you more than a month the other nations would have a heart-attack just thinking about what all you're filling the boy's head up with."

"What the hell, Roderich!" Gilbert finally lost his patience. "What do you think I'd tell the boy? Huh? 'You and I shall become greater than Napoleon'?" he pitched his voice, trying to sound like a ghost. When he finished, he rolled his eyes. "Please! Give me some credit. I'm not a monster, you know."

For just a moment, it looked as though the Austria wasn't going to say anything as he raised an eyebrow skeptically, insulting the Prussian greatly. "You might not think so, but that's _exactly _what the other nations would think. Do you really not see that, Prussia? Tell me truthfully that you did not see the nervousness in everyone's eyes, their fear at the mere _thought _that there might be a Germany. You own quite a substantial bit of land in the boy's territory," Roderich went on after calming himself a bit. "For him to live with you would seem like you were taking over him, something I and many others would not stand for."

"I understand that," the other replied tersely. "But if _you_ know my real intentions, and that I just want West to live with me, and you vouched for me, saying that I wasn't trying to be aggressive—"

"It would look like you and I went in together to take advantage of the boy," the pianist shook his head. "No, we must stick to the arrangements that have been made. If you were so opposed to the idea of West not living with you, you should have voiced your concerns in the meeting."

"You know as well as I do that I couldn't have," Gilbert spat. "Humans don't fully understand us and our thoughts and feelings. They wouldn't have understood that I simply _wanted _my brother back. That I have no interest in him other than personal."

"The trouble with _you_, Prussia, is that your personal wants always leak into your ambitious goals for your country. No, I'm afraid that this arrangement of him coming to visit the two of us would have to suffice for the time being," Roderich took off his glasses and cleaned them carefully on his handkerchief. "He still does not remember anything of his past, so we will have to reeducate him, teach him everything that he'll need to know to become this confederation. After all, the goal of his entire meeting was to put Europe back the way it was before France decided to get too bold."

Although he really did understand all of the logic, the reasoning behind everyone keeping his brother away from him, Gilbert was still angry. He honestly didn't care about putting Europe back the way it was because that was impossible. Even _he _knew that much. Everyone else was just diluting themselves with such hopes. "That's going to be hard considering that putting Europe back to the way it was would require Holy Roman Empire." The brunette flinched visibly, but Prussia continued his attack. "Funny, I can't seem to remember exactly why he isn't here anymore, can you, _Österreich_?"

It was an attempt to wound the other man, and nothing else. For an instant, the Austrian's indifference faded into a shroud of pain, a look of such sorrow that for a moment, just one moment, Gilbert found himself feeling sorry for his rival and wishing he hadn't said anything at all. But all too soon, Roderich recomposed his features in a weak attempt at looking calm and collected. It didn't work. The pain still very much shown in his violet eyes.

"Yes," the other said calmly, his voice wavered only slightly. "In fact, I can remember."

And with that, Austria walked away from Prussia, almost running Gilbert noted, and into the house. That evening, as he watched the children play with each other, the kingdom could not help but recall his harshness and wish that he could somehow alleviate the fault he felt. And it was only that evening when Roderich refused to come to dinner, saying that he had some pressing matters to attend to with his Emperor, that the albino thought that perhaps he had made a mistake.

As he went to bed that night, Ludwig snuggled up against him, Gilbert couldn't help but wonder how it made Roderich feel that the little boy that he had once loved as much as a brother now preferred the albino over him.

**oOoOoOo**

The next day, Roderich felt tired and miserable. Prussia's words had rung in his ears the course of the night, leaving the empire defenseless against the attacks of the guilt that he still tried to bury away and hide from. It was not easy, especially since he still left a portrait of his Gerwig in his chambers, as a reminder of the boy that he had loved so dearly, staring down at him almost accusingly. There were times when Roderich contemplated taking the picture down, but then he was afraid that he would be disrespecting the memory of the child Ludwig had been. And besides, he deserved the self-reproach since he was directly responsible for Holy Roman Empire's demise.

With a sigh, Austria rubbed his temples tiredly, feeling the comings of a migraine beginning. The conversation with Prussia had been terribly upsetting, especially since the albino had not been wrong. The point about the humans was particularly unsettling for Roderich at the moment while his thoughts were on Holy Rome. No one had ever asked _him _if he was all right with the fact that they were forcing him to kill his own little brother! No one had asked him if it was fine to betray the boy and leave him out for France! If Prussia hadn't found the child...

Yes. That was one frustrating point that always come back to slap Austria in the face. Despite his love for the Holy Roman Empire, despite him having lived with the child for years and years, having basically raised the boy, _he _had not been the one to help Gerwig when he needed it most. It was not Austria who came to the child's rescue, but _Prussia_. Loathsome, self-centered, egotistical _Prussia_. The very thought of it was disgusting, and now that sweet, slightly demanding boy that Roderich had loved now loved Prussia so much more.

"You're not looking so well this morning," a quiet voice said from behind.

"I wouldn't think so," the other responded blandly, once again retreating behind his mask of apathy.

"You did not sleep well?" Hungary asked gently, hugging the stony man from behind. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong." Austria sat up and pulled out of his wife's embrace, not wanting such tender contact at the moment.

"You did not come to dinner last night," Elizabeta continued, not all that put out by her husband's attitude. She had lived long enough with him to know his moods, to know when he was hurting. "Prussia said you had a talk last night. Was it about Ludwig?"

How his wife could know that, guess so accurately with such little information was beyond Roderich. He was certain that Gilbert wasn't stupid enough to confess to Hungary that he'd said some hurtful things, so that meant that the woman had come to this conclusion herself. There were times, however, when Roderich did appreciated his wife's perceptiveness; especially if it was for something he did not really want to get into too much detail.

With an annoyed sigh, Austria nodded, trying to build up his act disinterest again. "Yes."

"And he said something about Ludwig that upset you?"

Really the woman was too nosy for her own wellbeing. "I suppose...in a way."

There was a long moment of silence in which Hungary just looked at her husband thoughtfully; smaragdine eyes alight with concentration and pity. "He said something about Holy Rome."

It wasn't a question. She knew that that was probably the only really thing Prussia could bother him with at the moment considering how well the empire had come out after the congress. It was frustrating how well she could read him, especially since no one else really could. It was unnerving, and even upsetting in a way. But at the moment, Roderich was relieved, relieved that he didn't have to say anything.

The man was silent for a moment before finally, he nodded. "He did," he admitted softly. "But nothing he said was untrue."

"That doesn't make it not hurtful," Hungary kissed the top of her husband's head.

Smiling bitterly, Roderich nodded. "No, no it doesn't."

The couple remained silent for a moment before Elizabeta went and sat down on her husband's lap hugging him close. "Don't worry so much, my love. Everything worked out in the end. Gerwig is alive, and he is well. Do not blame yourself for what has happened. It was not _your _fault. I am sure that even if the boy still remembered, he would not blame you. He knew what it was to be one of our kind. He knew what it meant to be a personification and the duties that are sometimes forced upon us."

The two sat still in Austria's study for a little while longer, just hugging each other close, Roderich relishing the comfort he did not ask for but was given, before he froze. Now that no one was talking, he could hear something, something that was coming from the parlor…Someone was playing _his _piano!

"What the hell?" he growled, standing up, effectively causing the Hungarian to hop up, lest she fall to the floor.

"Roderich, please," she begged, knowing that her husband was about to go into a fit and likely harm someone.

"If it's that damned Prussian, I swear I'll kill him," he muttered very unsophisticatedly under his breath. Had he not been so furious that someone was touching his piano, Austria might have noticed that the sounds being brought forth from the instrument were not the crude noise of one merely striking the ivory keys, but were in fact the result of practiced fingers gently caressing the instrument, tenderly coaxing it to produce a lovely sound.

Opening the door to the parlor, Roderich was about to lay into whomever was bold enough—or rather, stupid enough— to _dare _touch his precious piano, when he literally stopped dead in his track. He was suddenly slapped in the face with the reality that the music being played had rhythm to it, actually had a steady melody being played, and was in fact quite _lovely_.

He stood there dumb for a few moments before he was brought back down to earth when something was tugging at his pants leg. Looking down, Austria beheld a pair of watery celadon eyes staring up at him worried. "I-I told him not to touch it, but he didn't listen to me," Lilie whispered mournfully.

Looking away from the girl, aubergine eyes finally made their way to the piano where they spied a tiny blonde sitting on the piano bench, feet dangling down while little hands were gliding over the keys. If Austria had been stunned before, he was completely flabbergasted now. Even while his mind was not functioning, Roderich found himself walking towards his instrument stupidly, not knowing, or caring, if his wife or Lilie were following him.

Mutely, Roderich watched as the small German, who did not seem to realize his audience had grown beyond Liechtenstein, continued to play. Once the last note was struck, and Ludwig ended the piece, Roderich found himself clapping enthusiastically. A large, stupid smile had at some point plastered itself onto his face.

"Bravo!" he cried passionately, truly happy. "Bravo!"

Ludwig jumped horribly before turning around with large azure eyes wide with fear even as a dark blush spread across the boy's face. "M-Mr. Austria, sir!" he yelped. "I-I'm so sorry! I-I didn't m-mean to play the p-pianoforte. L-Lilie and I were just playing hide and seek, and when I came in I s-saw the piano and I…well…I-I just wanted to touch a key."

Had it been anyone else, and had Ludwig not been able to actually play anything on the instrument, Roderich would have thrown a fit and probably punished the child severely. But since it _was _Ludwig playing, and he _had _actually played a real song…

"That is quite all right, my boy." Austria sat himself down next to the child, taking the little blonde by surprise. "Come, why didn't you tell me you could play? What song was that?"

It was the first time that Ludwig had displayed any talents that he had known as Gerwig that Roderich had seen, and he was ecstatic. Roderich had taught Holy Rome to play, and if Ludwig remembered how to play, then maybe all hope was not lost! Maybe the boy would soon remember how they had loved each other, and how much they had gone through many things together?

"I-I didn't know I could play," Ludwig looked down at his hands nervously, his blush ever present. "A-and I-I don't really know what that song was."

Smiling kindly down at the child that he had patiently taught for years, Austria looked away from the boy and took pulled out some sheet music. "That was _Prelude in C_ by Johann Sebastian Bach," he explained. "He is perhaps the greatest German composer. He was born in_Sachsen-Eisenach_ in 1685. He was a very prolific writer, I must say, and truly one of the greatest composers the Holy Roman Empire turned out."

Ludwig looked like he was drinking in the information studiously, but cocked his head to the side in thought. "I-is that why I can play the piano? Because I now control the lands of the Holy Roman Empire?"

Roderich sat frozen for a moment, not really knowing what to say. Normally, just because you were the heir to someone else's land and people didn't mean that you inherited their gifts as well!... Although you could, perhaps, show some of the same signs of talent. But because Ludwig had been Holy Rome himself, and it seemed that some of the talents and abilities had leaked over into his new incarnation. It shouldn't really have been as surprising as it was, but Austria was still a bit astonished. And where had the boy come up with this logic?

And with that thought, Roderich was in a very sensitive situation. He could either tell the truth or he could lie. Telling the truth would require telling _all _of the truth, and both he and Gilbert had decided that that would not be wise for the time being. But to lie would be willfully misleading the boy into believing all kinds of falsehoods that could potentially be harmful for him in the future…

"Yes," the pianist said before he truly realized he was talking at all. "Perhaps in part," he tried to cover up his hurried reply. "Now, let's see if you can't play something else. Can you read music?"

"I don't know," Ludwig shrugged, amazed that he hadn't gotten yelled at.

Again, a smile softened Austria's stern features. "Then let's see, shall we? Look here. What is this note?" he pointed to the note that rested on the very middle line in the treble cleft.

The little boy sat a moment, face contorting into concentration, before his usually dulled eyes brightened into something brilliant, and for a moment, Roderich was certain that Gerwig was back. "A 'B'!" Ludwig exclaimed, looking up to the brunette, eyes sparkling and desperately seeking approval.

"That's right," Roderich nodded. "What kind of 'B'?"

Just like any practiced musician, Ludwig looked to the left at the first bar. "'B' flat?"

"In what cleft?"

"Treble?"

"And what key is this written in?" He was pushing, Roderich knew, but since the boy seemed to be remembering the instrument and music was serious business…

This seemed to quiet the child's quick replies now as he stared at the key signature dutifully. As Austria watched, he could have sworn that the boy was literally flipping through files in his head to come up with the correct answer. The child would make an excellent academic if he put that analytical mind to it.

"'C' sharp minor?" at last Ludwig gave his answer.

"Is that a question or an answer?" Roderich raised a stern brow.

"'C' sharp minor," the child stated more firmly this time.

Allowing a slight smile to grace his lips once more, Austria nodded. "Now, let us see how good you are at sight reading."

"Oh, Roderich!" Elizabeta was now sitting close to the piano with Lilie in her lap. "Have him play that one song. You know, the one that was written about fourteen years ago by that one contemporary man."

There were many songs that had been written "about" fourteen years ago by composers that were trying to get their feet in the door, and although the vague request annoyed Roderich by how little Hungary kept up with all of the rising and big name composers, because it _was _Hungary, he knew which one she was talking about. "Yes, my dear, that's the one I was having him look at."

The woman must have realized that she was annoying her husband, and wisely shut her mouth, though she still wore a slightly devilish smirk, finding it enjoying to pester him so.

"All right, Ludwig, I want to see if you can't play this song," Roderich set the score up for the child. "This is a relatively new piece, only fourteen-years-old, written by a composer that's still around, called Ludwig van Beethoven. Whenever you're ready, you may begin."

Ludwig looked up at his teacher in dismayed. "I-I can't play," he squeaked.

"And why not?" Austria asked, frowning. "You were just playing a moment ago."

"B-but there's so many people here now."

The boy was nervous? Well, that had never really been a problem with Gerwig…or if it had been, the boy had always covered it up so well. It was just another reminder that this child, despite being identical to Holy Rome in looks, was not the same boy he had been.

"Just pretend that you are alone and concentrate on the music, and _only _the music," Austria instructed. "This is a safe environment, and I am merely here to help and instruct you if you need it. Shall I count off and give you a tempo?"

The little confederation looked several shades paler than before, but nodded all the same. Nodding once, Roderich patted his knee to give the tempo— he had long ago put away his metronome— and hummed the first two measures so that the child would have a sense of how the piece was to be played. Once he was finished and counted off, Ludwig began to play.

And once more, Roderich was not disappointed. Ludwig's hands flowed over the keys, a bit hesitantly, but that could be easily corrected. The same went for the slight change in tempo every once and a while. There were a few wrong notes here and there, but they were few and far in between, mostly due to the fact that the child's hands were so small he couldn't rightly stretch them over the expanse of the keys. And this was sight reading, after all, and Roderich was sure that with enough practice, Ludwig would be an _excellent _musician. But all in all, the music that the child produced was lovely, and truly moving.

When the child managed to finish the piece— sweating profusely and red as a cardinal's robes!— Hungary and Lilie were clapping, smiling happily for their amateur pianist. "Oh, very, very good!" Elizabeta beamed. "That was very well done!"

The boy looked immensely relieved, but turned worried eyes up to his teacher, waiting for Roderich's verdict, because it was the only one that really mattered, and Austria drank that trust and need for approval greedily.

"It was…acceptable," Roderich nodded, loving the feeling of teaching and grading his old student again. "It was done well for sight reading. You and I shall have to practice more together, and I will give you some music so you can practice when you're away and at home."

"So, wait," a voice from the door way caused the happy little group to turn. Gilbert was standing there looking surprised. "That was _West_ playing? That wasn't _you_?" he stared at Austria.

The two kingdoms stared at one another, a silent battle of wills going on between the two, both of them feeling oddly protective and dominate over Ludwig, even over something so simple as piano lessons. "It wasn't," Roderich replied smoothly. "He's got talent, and I am merely helping him do something with it."

"That's good," Gilbert nodded, giving his brother a smile. "It sounded great!" But when he turned back to Austria the smile was gone without a trace, and cinnabar eyes darkened and narrowed in warning. "He really should be getting along though. I'm going to be starting his lessons today now that everything is over with."

"That's all very well," Roderich nodded, violaceous orbs glaring right back. "He will come and join you after his music lesson."

And once again, the rivalrous air that had thus far been put aside between the two Germanic powers was back with full force as Austria and Prussia glowered at each other viciously. Both countries wanted dominion over the German Confederation, and both men wanted the glory of the child's attention. And while Hungary looked on worriedly, Ludwig knew that there was something going on, but not understanding that he was causing trouble yet again.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hello everyone! Sorry I haven't updated for a while. The bad thing about studying history and English is I have a LOT of papers to do… But I do hope that this was a good enough update for the time being. It was a little hard to write… But now we've reestablished Gilbert and Roderich's glorious rivalry again!

**History: **The Congress of Vienna ended on June of 1815, just before Napoleon was defeated at Waterloo for the final time. At the Congress of Vienna, Napoleon was declared an outlaw, and once he returned to cause some trouble, the allies from before sent their armies to crush him completely…which they did at Waterloo thanks to the Prussians, British, the Netherlands, and a few German states. Also, Hanover came under the control of Britain after the congress.

Maximilian Graf von Montgelas and von Wintzingerode were two representatives from German states at the Congress. The former was actually quite scary looking to me, hence Ludwig's reaction at the beginning.

The two songs mentioned in here, _Prelude in C _and _Moonlight Sonata, _are both very famous. The first, written by Bach, was estimated to have been composed in 1710 of 1720. The second, _Piano Sonata No. 14 _or more famously known as _Moonlight Sonata _was written in 1801 by Beethoven in Hungary (I thought that's why she would like it so much…). There are both relatively simple songs (ones that I'm sure a child like Ludwig could play) and they were both written by good German composers…Yes, I'm calling Beethoven German…because he was. Sorry Austria.

The rest of the history should have been explained well enough in the story. If you have any questions, leave me a review and I'll reply back to hopefully give you some answers. :)

Thanks everyone!


	21. Chapter 18: Fishing

**Chapter Eighteen: Fishing**

**1833**

Gilbert scowled as he looked at the clock. Damn, it was nearly time for him to leave but he still wasn't done with his meeting. Why did Friedrich Wilhelm have the ability to talk so long? This had been going on for _hours _now, and _nothing _important had even been said! Damn! Why did Prussia even have to be here when the nobles were just talking about things that Gilbert didn't really care much about? Was this some sort of conspiracy to keep him here longer? _Shit, and I still have to pack!_ Gilbert lamented silently.

Half of Gilbert's mind told him to just get up and leave when it was eleven o'clock and get on his way just like planned. He _had _told them all he was planning to go…But then again, that would look terrible, not to mention how disrespectful it was! Prussia was a disciplined state, one that took great pride in its military and order. Despite how wild and oftentimes rude he could be with other nations and their leaders, Gilbert always listened to his own. They were just about the only ones that could control him.

Grumbling under his breath, Gilbert resigned to stay where he was and wait until the meeting concluded. West would be disappointed that he'd be late, but at the same time it could not be helped. Nationality before humanity, that's just how it went. It would be too selfish, even for Prussia, to just do whatever he wanted all the time. His leader needed him, even if it was just to talk about trade agreements, because the nation's first duty was to his or her people.

But that did not mean that the albino did not get distracted. While Gilbert was trying to pay attention, he found that the more he looked at the others in the room he just got angry that he would not be able to leave on times since it looked like all the windbags weren't going to be done anytime soon. Not wanting to have to look at them, the nation found his gaze drifting from King Friedrich and Chief Minister von Wylich to outside the window.

The sun was shining brightly and the sky looked wonderfully blue and clear. It was the sort of day that made Gilbert just want to run outside and keep on running until he felt like he had gone back in time to the days when he did not have all of this responsibility. Back to a time when he was just a territory of Germania, when _Vater _looked after him and he did not have to worry much about politics. Back to a time when he could do pretty much anything he wanted, go anywhere and answer to no one except Germania and his king. And even then neither Germania and the kings never asked much, just that he stay quiet and not get too rowdy, though to destroy his enemies should they attack. Those were the good old days…

The daydreaming Prussian could still remember years ago, when King Friedrich's two youngest children, Louise and Albrecht, would playing outside on a day like this. The two children would run out by the old apple tree, always laughing about something. The sunlight would gleam off of their hair and they would giggle and play with one another for hours. They had both looked and acted much differently than Ludwig. The two Prussian children had always looked so carefree and happy. It pained the albino to recognize that his brother never looked, or would, look like that. The little confederation always seemed overwhelmed or sad; in a way, looking much older than his physical age of a seven-year-old boy.

The thought of his brother sent another stab of panic and restlessness in the nation's heart. What would Ludwig think if he were late? The child was waiting for him, Gilbert couldn't just let him wait in such uncertainty. Surely the boy would think that his big brother had forgotten him. Gilbert couldn't let that happen! But he still had his duty to stay with his king.

_Scheiβe, scheiβe, scheiβe! _Gilbert let his head fall into his hand as he inwardly struggled with himself. He would have started banging his head on the table, but that would not only have looked completely un-awesome, but it would have made everyone stare.

Grinding his teeth, the nation was forced to sit and wait for the meeting to get through. Hopefully everything would go smoothly—

"_Preuβen_!"

"Huh?" Gilbert snapped out of his daydreaming and pity party to find the king and von Wylich frowning at him. "I-I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

The two humans seemed put-out by their nation's lack of attention, but said nothing. "I asked you what you thought about the Austrian control over the other German states," Wylich repeated steadily. He had long ago gotten used to his nation's strange habits and sometimes short attention span.

Hearing his rival's name did nothing to soothe over the albino's already fraying nerves. "You know how I feel about Austria," Gilbert crossed his arms. "Bastard thinks that he owns the whole damn span of Europe!"

"Language, please," Friedrich mumbled, not even bothering to reprehend the nation further. He had learned long ago that no one could rightly control Prussia's mouth, especially when he was angry.

"What about _Österreich_?" Gilbert went on, not really bothering to acknowledge his king's complaint at the moment. He heard that "Watch Your Language" speech frequently from the aging man.

The king and Chief Minister shared a look, one that told the nation instantly that something was going to happen soon. Judging from the mood, the albino was sure that it was going to be something that he would like and not like at the same time. It had been a little over twenty years since everyone had last gotten along, and since those years, tensions between Austria and Prussia had become more and more evident.

"We believe that it's time for something to happen, _Preuβen_," Friedrich said seriously. "I believe it's time that the Austro-Hungarian Empire knows that it can't rule over Europe."

Gilbert's eyes widened and a grin of excitement found its way onto his lips. "But," Wylich said before the nation could get too eager. "We cannot rush into this. We have to figure out a way to show the empire that it is not at all liked or welcome, but at the same time, not propel ourselves into a fight."

"I'm sure I would come out on top if—" Gilbert began.

"_Preuβen_," the king silenced the personification. "A fight is not something we need at the moment. We just want some way to show Austria that we're not happy with him while also continuing on our own economic growth."

"Insult him without starting a fight," the albino nodded. He understood that plan. He'd done it _plenty _of times in the past with several different nations. "So, what's the plan?"

Again, the two men shared a look. "We're not sure yet," Wylich admitted. "We were hoping you might have some sort of idea."

"Me?" Gilbert laughed. It was nice that they were trying to directly involve their nation, but at the same time, Prussia was not known for his benevolent acts in politics. "If it were just up to me I'd kick my boot all the way up that bastard's ass, he wouldn't be able to sit of months!"

"Please try and be serious about this," Friedrich rubbed his temples tiredly.

"We need to do something," Wylich continued. "Austria's been interfering with our trading with the other states and it's costing us."

"Perhaps you can do something about it, _Preuβen_," Friedrich's eyes suddenly brightened. "You are going to see the confederation today, aren't you? To bring him here for several days?"

"Yes." Gilbert always hated to get his brother in the middle of these sorts of discussions. But then again, it was nearly impossible not too. The life of a nation was never private and it was with almost frightening frequency that they were used, often times, badly. But that did not stop Gilbert from wanting to shield his little brother as best as he could whenever he could.

"When you bring him here we can talk with him, perhaps fish around, see how his kings and princes feel about the Austrian Empire. Perhaps he can give us the inspiration we need to come up with something brilliant," the king smiled.

"Surely he'd be willing to talk with you here," Wylich nodded encouragingly to his nation. "And he must be getting rather frustrated with Austria ruling over him. After all, wasn't there a movement a while back for a '_Deutschland_'? Surely we could come up with something that will benefit us, get him to throw out Austrian rule."

The albino frowned at this. "I don't think encouraging West to throw out rulers is such a good idea," Prussia shook his head. "Remember the Hambach Festival?"

"That had been easily taken care of," Wylich waved off.

"_Ja_, but I wouldn't test the Germans anymore," Gilbert warned. "Our people are tenacious, stubborn and strong. Promoting too much rebellion would be unwise. There are already moments out there that express the dissatisfaction with the monarchs, do you really want to inspire that sort of unrest when there is great rick of you losing control?"

It was not often that their Prussia presented his wisdom in such a light. Usually the nation would sarcastically lay out the situation or demand one thing or another. It was rare for the German nation present facts logically and without any sort of bite in his tone. Whenever Prussia used this particular attitude it was a clear warning for his rulers, or anyone, that he was deadly serious. It was in these times when his people were truly in awe of him, for the nation spoke with such conviction that there was nothing to do but respect him. It was in these times when everyone realized that their personification was old; had lived through events, seen things that they could only imagine now. It was in these rare moments that Prussia seemed truly otherworldly.

"You are right, of course," Friedrich consented. "But as we said, something must be done. Perhaps we shall think of something later. For now, is it not time for you to be going to retrieve the little confederation?"

Gilbert glanced back over to look at the clock and cursed under his breath. "I'm running late," he scowled. Standing up, he bowed to both men. "Excuse me. We'll talk more about this another time."

With that, the albino left his rulers to quickly get ready for his journey to see his brother. The meeting with the two men had left Gilbert feeling conflicted and a little confused. A part of him wanted to jump on the chance to cause some damage to Austria, insult him the way he had been insulting Gilbert for years with his attitude and arrogant manner. He also liked the idea of West throwing out Austria rule and becoming a stronger nation…but at the same time, that was something he was not all that ready for yet. Ludwig was still young, his people too strong for him to handle on his own. If he were to stir up some of West's people, inspire some sort of rebellion, where would that leave him?

Shaking his head, Gilbert decided that he should let the meeting rest for the time being. He did not want to think about such things at the moment. He did not want it to sour his mood for his brother. After all, he didn't get to see his brother every day and he wanted to be in good spirits when he saw him.

"Stupid meeting," he muttered under his breath as he packed. Once finished, he hastily made his way outside when his horse had been waiting for him with the groomsmen. As he mounted and began riding out of the gate, Gilbert couldn't help but reflect on everything that had been said.

**oOoOoOo**

Ludwig was pacing up and down the length of the room, scowling impressively for a child looking seven-years-old. He knew he should not be so impatient, but Lord help him, he _was _impatient at the moment. No matter how many times he looked at the clock on the wall, the useless thing never seemed to move. It was unbearable! Was the silly thing broken or something? Why was it moving so _slow_?

"Ludwig?" The boy turned to find Lilie watching him, her soft face creased with concern. "Maybe you should sit down for a while."

He nearly snapped at her, wanting to tell her to mind her own business, but he didn't. Not only would that be entirely rude, but it would be unfair. Lilie hadn't done anything to him. She was only concerned for his wellbeing at the moment. It was nice to know that someone cared about him like that, even if, it was annoying as well.

"I don't want to sit down now," Ludwig said instead. "He'll be here soon."

And with that, he resumed his pacing. What could be taking Gilbert so long? What if something terrible had happened and he had been hurt on the way over? What if he fell of his horse and broke his back without anyone around to help? What if he was out there now, trying desperately to crawl the rest of the way here? Ludwig _had _to help him!

Just when the boy had resolved to go and get his coat from the rack, the door slammed open, hitting the wall hard enough that it almost bounced back to hit the guest in the face. "It's windy out there!" was the first thing that left the intruders mouth.

"Gilbert!" Ludwig rushed over to his brother and promptly attached himself to the older nation's leg.

"_Hallo,_ West!" the albino grinned, kneeling down as best as he could with his little brother still grabbing a hold of his calf. "What have you been up to today?"

The little blonde detached himself almost immediately and scowled at his brother as fiercely as a child his size could. "You're late," Ludwig stated, allowing his displeasure to show. Even though he was thrilled to see his brother, the child couldn't help but still be angry that his brother made him worry so much.

Prussia rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, I figured I'd get an ear full from you once I got here."

The teasing did nothing to dissuade the child's annoyance. Instead of lightening up, Ludwig continued to frown up at his brother, crossing his arms over his chest, pouting ever so slightly. "Well, you deserve it," the blonde growled. "You're almost an hour late!"

It seemed that the other was not at all in the mood for a lecture, especially from someone less than half his size, and so Gilbert stood up and smiled over his huffy brother. "_Guten Tag_, _Fräulein,_" the albino nodded over to Liechtenstein. "How are you today?"

Lilie looked like a strange mix between amused and apprehensive, but she curtsied to Prussia prettily, managing a small smile. "_Guten Tag_, _mein Herr_. I am doing well, and yourself?"

Still ignoring the boy, Gilbert flashed a smirk at the girl, frustrating his brother all the more. "Well enough. Though I seem to have gotten myself in trouble with my brother. You'll have to excuse us. I think Ludwig and I need to have a talk."

Before the little confederation could have said anything, his brother scooted him along to the study, while at the same time nodding to Liechtenstein, who looked concerned. "We'll only be a bit," Prussia promised the girl with a grin. "We'll be ready for dinner in a moment."

Ludwig looked behind him to see Lilie watching them before she turned and walked back to the kitchen. Peering up at Gilbert, the boy noticed that the usually cheerful smile was vacant from his brother's lips. It had not occurred to the blonde before that moment that perhaps he had gone too far in scolding his brother. After all, Gilbert was the mighty Prussia and did not have to take any back sass from the likes of him. What if his brother was going to yell at him now? What if Gilbert really was angry at him for being so demanding?

Gulping, all Ludwig could do was hope that his brother was just unusually pensive toady and was not really angry with him. The albino could be lots of fun, but he could turn off that part of himself as quickly as he could down a measure of beer. At the moment the older nation looked serious and determined, signaling to the younger that whatever it was on Gilbert's mind, Ludwig was probably not going to like it very much. Hopefully it wasn't going to be too bad…

The albino pushed them into the study, and once they were in, he shut the door behind him forcefully. Looking up, worried blue eyes met steely red. "Sit down," Gilbert commanded.

The boy didn't need to be told twice. Almost instantly Ludwig jumped up on a chair and sat down, waiting for his brother to speak again, but Gilbert didn't. Instead, the albino walked past his brother without a second glance in favor of standing near the window, looking out into the afternoon. Prussia was not generally known for being stoic and it worried the blonde considerable. Surely Gilbert wasn't _that _mad at him! After all, the little confederation had only been worried. True, that didn't mean that it gave the blonde the right to scold his older, stronger brother, but surely the Prussian understood by now that whenever the German was concerned he tended to snap a little…right?

Ludwig sat still for several excruciating minutes, waiting for his brother to say something, but when the other remained quiet, the boy found himself blurting out, "I'm sorry, _Bruder_!"

The albino turned around to stare at the boy, confusion flicked across the pale face even as the fair brow creased. "_Was_? What are you talking about, West?"

So Gilbert wasn't angry? While that was a relief, one that Ludwig felt keenly, it did not stop the embarrassed blush that spread across the boy's round cheeks. "I…I, um, said I was…sorry," he tried to explain, all the while wanting to die from the mortification.

"I know that, West, I have ears," the Prussian frowned. The albino suddenly looked very tall, very imposing as he stood with the sunlight shining in around him, making the pale skin almost glow. Gilbert looked almost god-like, and it did nothing but make Ludwig feel all the more wretched. "What are you sorry for?"

The calm tone did not ease the boy's humiliation. Squirming in his seat, the confederation peeked up at his brother through golden fringes, feeling very small. "I-I'm sorry for scolding you," he said at last. "I-it was wrong of me to do so. I should have remembered my place."

A snowy brow went up, but the usually stern action was softened by the smile that crept onto Gilbert's face. "I wasn't mad at you for that, West," he said gently. "Why would you think I was?" The older man walked over to kneel before his little brother.

"You ignored my questions and you pushed me in here to talk," Ludwig explained. "I thought you were angry with me for being impertinent."

"Keseses! Since when does a little kid like you know the meaning of 'impertinent'?" Gilbert suddenly looked like his usual self, crimson eyes flickering with amusement. "Only you would over think everything."

"If you aren't mad at me, then why did we have to come in here to talk?" the blonde asked. "I-I thought you were going to scold me."

Again, the older nation laughed lightly. "No, I'm not going to scold you, Ludwig. I really just needed to talk to you…though you are right. Normally you shouldn't talk to your elders like that. Not everyone is as awesome as I am and knows that you didn't really mean any disrespect."

"I know. I'm sorry." The boy looked down, staring at his shoes interestedly.

"It's all right," Gilbert reassured. "But we have to talk. It's been a while since you moved in here with Liechtenstein and Luxembourg and I think that it's time that you start looking to strengthen yourself."

Ludwig frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, West, you know what I'm talking about!" Prussia rolled his eyes. "You've stabilized yourself as a confederation; that's good, but it won't be enough. Now that you're a little older and you understand the way the system works and have met all of the rulers that make up your little states, it's time that you start looking to building yourself up, turn yourself into something great!"

The blonde frowned. "But how can I do that?" he asked. "I'm not even a country. I'm just a confederation. I don't have any real power…you and Austria tell me what to do most of the time."

"_Austria _tells you what to do mostly, remember? I have no control over you." An almost bitter expression passed over the Prussian's face. "_Österreich _has his president over you."

"_J-ja_," the boy squirmed, feeling a little uncomfortable when his brother's continence changed like this. Anymore, when Prussia thought of Austria for too long his usually playful, happy mood could turn quite dark. Whenever Ludwig asked his brother in the past why he and Roderich did not get along so well, Gilbert would tell him, quite bluntly, that "Austria's a no good, power-hungry sneak that I'm sure is just waiting to stab me in the back!" Not something the child liked to hear, but then again, he knew none of the particulars of the Prussian-Austrian relations.

The albino stood once more and started pacing, looking very much like an animal trap in a cage. "You can't always be under someone else's control, West," Gilbert went on, almost as though he hadn't heard Ludwig speak at all. "_Especially _not _Österreich's_ control. He's been lording over your lands for too long now."

Azuline eyes followed the pacing Prussia steadily. Gilbert did not seem like himself today for some reason. Maybe he had been told something before he left? Maybe that's why he had been late? Ludwig felt all the worse for snapping at his brother almost the moment he had arrived.

"Something really should be done about him," the albino went on, almost talking to himself now. "He's been in charge for way too long…" he trailed off.

The silence unnerved Ludwig, why he did not know. There was something in the way his brother stood there, pensive, eyes glittering with thought, that made the younger nation fidget. What was his brother thinking about? Gilbert had always been great at planning and coming up with some of the wildest, yet brilliant ideas the little blonde had ever seen. Usually Gilbert used that talent to do fun things, like build a fort out of stone or carve wonderful designs into wood, but there were times that Ludwig had noticed that his brother could use his intelligence in much more cunning and harmful fashion.

"That's it!" Gilbert cried, a fiendish smirk splitting his face. "I'm a genius!"

"_B-Bruder_?" Ludwig stuttered while his brother laughed.

Snapping glimmering cinnabar eyes back onto the little confederation, the albino continued to grin, but it was not a necessarily pleasant sight. "Don't you worry, West," the Prussian walked over to pat his brother on the head, making the boy feel more like a dog than a person. "_Groβer Bruder _is going to take care of everything."

Staring up into the impossibly crimson eyes, Ludwig felt a shiver run down his spine. He did not like how his brother was acting at all. Something seemed very off about Prussia today, his eyes looked feral and his movements were unsteady. What happened to Gilbert, the blonde didn't know, but it caused him to worry. He wondered if he should ask what was wrong, but then again, he didn't want to pry into his brother's business either.

"Gilbert," Ludwig began.

"I said don't worry about it," Gilbert smiled, suddenly looking much calmer and much more like himself. "Now, why don't we go sit down to dinner? I'm sure Lilie and Jean have been waiting for us."

The fast transformation from one mood to the other left Ludwig feeling wary. What was wrong with Gilbert? Maybe it was nothing. Perhaps he had just had a stressful day and had needed to let off some steam. Whatever it was, he was sure he'd find out later, perhaps even when they road back to Gilbert's house tomorrow. For the time being, the boy decided that he'd wait and see how everything transpired.

**oOoOoOo**

The next day, when the two brothers made it back to Prussia's house, Gilbert decided that he and his brother should have some quality time together. "It seems like forever since we last had a day devoted only to fun!"

And it had been. Ludwig had been so busy the last several years trying to keep up with all of his many states and their rulers while also trying to keep in the loop with Austria and his rulers. While the boy was not yet a proper country, he certainly felt like it some days. Not only was he having to keep up with his own people's needs and complains— from over thirty different states, mind you— but he was constantly having to double check everything with Austria and the president that resided over the German states. Gilbert was always there, of course, but because his government had no direct control over Ludwig, there was little Prussia could do most of the time but watch what the Austria Empire did.

But that was not what was important at the moment. What _was _of great importance was that Gilbert wanted to go fishing. Ludwig had only been fishing one time before that he could remember, so he was eager to try it again. He'd read a book about the proper way to fish a while back, so he was confident that he would be able to do much better than last time. Last time he had gone, the ground had been soft and the bank had given way while an impressive _Kalis—_Gilbert swore to this day it had been at least a meter long!— had pulled at that moment as well, causing the poor, confused child to fall right into the water. (Though, how his brother had been able to tell how big the fish had been while he was panicking trying to get his brother out of the water, Ludwig did not know.)

So, with the plan of fishing all day happily in place, the two Germans decided that it was time to get going and go to Gilberts "secret fishing hole". As they went, Ludwig couldn't help but hum the tune of _Die Forelle _as they rode. Gilbert, despite his dislike of Austria, was also inspired by the piece and actually started to sing the words as Ludwig hummed. By the time the two had gotten to stream, they were both singing and laughing.

Gilbert flopped down on the grass, smiling up at the sky while Ludwig decided to spread the blanket out and set their basket of food down. The boy smiled over at his brother and giggled. He liked it when it was just him and his brother, especially when the Prussian didn't seem worried about anything in particular. The boy had almost forgotten about his brother's strange behavior the day before.

"Ah, this is the life, eh, West?" the albino closed his eyes. "Nothing to do today except eat, fish, and maybe take a nap later. Just like the good old day."

Ludwig almost rolled his eyes, though he still wore a soft smile. "We've only gone fishing once before, _Bruder_."

"Right, of course," Gilbert sat up. For a moment, the blonde thought he brother looked uncomfortable, but he couldn't be too sure, because Prussia turned away from him. "You ready to fish now, West?"

His brother's smile was enough to make the boy forget everything else, and he nodded earnestly. "_Ja_, just give me a moment to finish setting up the—"

"Oh, forget that!" the other laughed. "Let's fish!"

Being pulled away, Ludwig yelped, but otherwise did not protest. He tried to scowl, not liking being forced from finishing his work, but at the same time Gilbert's enthusiasm was catching, and secretly the blonde did not mind that the little camp was not set up all the way. Whenever he was with Prussia, Ludwig didn't feel quite so nervous when things weren't organized because he knew that Gilbert wouldn't let anything else bad happen.

The older German set up the poles and baited them before passing it to his brother. Just as Ludwig was about to take it, the albino jerked his hand back, smirking down at his brother. "Don't fall in this time." He winked.

Ludwig blushed furiously before snatching the pole out of his brother's hand, grumbling under his breath. "Wasn't my fault. The bank gave way."

Gilbert just laughed as he allowed the pole to be ripped from his hands. "Whatever you say, West. Whatever you say."

Choosing to ignore his wicked brother, the blonde turned his attention to the water and cast out his line as best as he could. It wasn't easy, but he did it like the book he had found told him to do, and began the tedious waiting game with the fish. He was so busy concentrating on doing everything right, Ludwig didn't notice how amused his brother was with his technicality.

As the two of them waited for the fish to bite, they talked about anything and everything that came to their mind as long as it was light. They tried to stay away from business subjects and Austria as much as possible, and whenever the name of a king or prince was brought up, it was quickly abandoned in favor of a safer topic. Today was their day, and neither one wanted to spoil it with talk about work.

It was almost twenty minutes later when Ludwig had his first bite. At first he thought that the wind had just blown his line as he was distracted talking to his brother, but after a moment, he noticed his whole rod moved. Grabbing it quickly, the boy began his fight.

"Start reeling him in, West!" Gilbert encouraged. "You've got him!"

While the process of reeling in a fish sounded fairly simple when reading, now faced with the reality of the situation—and the memory of what happened last time—Ludwig felt suddenly very nervous. While his brother's cheers were supposed to be encouraging, it just made the boy's heart beat that much faster. He didn't want to fall in again, but he found himself also not wanting to let the fish go either. So, digging in his heels, the blonde worked to stay calm and reel in his catch.

After an eternity—really only after less than a minute—Ludwig had reeled in a handsome brown trout. The boy's azure eyes widened even as a smile split his face. "I did it!" he cried. "Look, Gilbert, I caught it!"

"Keseseses! You sure did, West! Awesome!" the albino praised, ruffling his brother feathery hair. "Now we've got our dinner!"

Ludwig beamed, loving the praise, but when he turned back to his catch, his smile wore off of his face slowly, replaced with a frown.

"What's wrong, Ludwig?" Gilbert asked, not understanding his brother's sudden loss of delight.

While it was stupid, there was really no reason why he should feel like this, Ludwig found himself feeling sad for the poor trout. All he could think about now was the song and how the trout had been swimming all happily before the fisherman had come and caught it. He didn't want to be that fisherman!

"D-do we have to eat him?" the boy asked, blue eyes pleading.

Understanding seemed to dawn on the older nation, and he smiled warmly down at his little brother. "No, we can let him go. He looks a little too young yet, don't you think? Too small?"

"Yeah," Ludwig nodded earnestly, before unhooking his catch and quickly returning it to its home in the water.

"We'll just see what other kind of fish we can get." The boy felt better when his brother patted him on the back.

"_Ja_, okay." He looked up at his brother. "Thanks, East."

The albino's smile was still warm as he leaned over and kissed the top of his brother's soft hair. "No problem. Now let's see what kind of fish _I _catch first!"

As the two fished, Ludwig couldn't help but think of what a wonderful brother he had, one that took him seriously and listened to him, but still teased him just enough. The day was perfect as far as the boy was concerned, and he loved being with his brother. But while Gilbert was also enjoying the day, Ludwig did not notice the shadow that seemed to cross over the albino's face every now and then.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Okay, sorry for not posting in forever. Last several weeks have been crazy with finals and papers and moving back home for the summer. But I'm home now and should be able to update a little quicker…unless the job I'm still trying to find gets in the way. .

**History: **Friedrich Wilhelm III is still the king of Prussia at this time, and Count Karl Friedrich Heinrich von Wylich as the Chief Minister. Friedrich fathered ten children, while only seven lived to adulthood. The youngest two were Louise (1808-1870) who married Prince Fredrick of the Netherlands, and Albrecht (1809-1872) who married Marianne, the princess of the Netherlands and sister to Prince Fredrick. (I find that a little disturbing for some reason…)

The whole, Friedrich and von Wylich bit being all epic and "things need to change" probably didn't happen _quite _like that, but I couldn't find out the particulars in history for 1833, so please bare with me. This is just my way of sort of giving you some back story for the next chapter.

The Hambach Festival 1832, was basically the first protest by the Germans wanting liberty, civil rights, and national unity. They also complained about high taxes. (This is but a prelude into the future, fyi. It is the backbone of events later on.) It ended up being a violent affair, but it was soon squashed and nothing much came from it.

At this time, Austria had a president that oversaw the affairs that went on in the German Confederation. Austria was basically still the boss over all of the German speaking states but Prussia and Switzerland. **Prussia's big epiphany in the middle of this will be explained next chapter.

**Name: **I honestly had _no _idea what to name Luxembourg, but I looked up some of the leaders, and there was a big mix of names since it's between France and Germany and Belgium…so I saw Jean and stuck with it. If anyone has any other suggestions, I'd be more than happy to hear them, but at the moment, he's Jean.

**Song: **_Die Forelle_ or The Trout, was a poem by Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart that was later arranged with music by Franz Shubert in 1817. It was popular in its time and is an adorable song. So, if you've never heard of it, go listen, because I love it~ ^^

**Fish: **The _Kalis _is a native German fish which is also known as a Wels Catfish and they are HUGE. The largest catfish recorded was a Wels. They can get up to 10 ft long. That weird _River Monsters _guy caught one for a show. And of course a _forelle _is a trout.

'**Nother Author's Note: **Okay, so next chapter some of the weirdness in Gilbert's behavior will be explained and we'll get to see more of Austria's side of things. Thanks everyone who has been reading and/or review! I appreciate it! :D


	22. Chapter 19: Pulling

**Chapter Nineteen: Pulling**

**1834**

"You're not keeping a steady tempo," Roderich chided.

Ludwig adjusted to his teacher's pace once more and worked to read the notes as quickly as he could while giving them the correct value. The chords from the piano rose and swirled around the air, sounding slightly stiff but easy despite the player's intense focus. The room seemed still except for the music that danced around the open space, bouncing off the walls while being absorbed by the ear.

"_Nein_. That is incorrect," Austria shook his head once more.

The blonde scowled, the constant criticism finally getting the better of him. Frustrated, the boy stopped, hands still posed over the keys as he glared up at his teacher. "I was playing the correct notes," he snapped. "I was doing it right."

The older nation's eyebrow rose at the backtalk, but otherwise he did not rise to the bait. "It was wrong," he said again, amethyst eyes glittering.

"No, it was correct," Ludwig forced his voice to be steady, but it was difficult. After spending almost three hours playing and having Roderich pick on everything he did had finally wore down the German's nerves. He was tired of having to be polite and bite his tongue whenever the Austrian decided he did not like something he did. Honestly, Ludwig did not mind being told that he was doing something wrong, really, he didn't. What the German nation could not _stand, _however, was being told he was wrong when he _knew _he was right.

While Austria seemed calm on the outside, his jaw was tight, alerting the boy that his teacher was slowly losing his patience as well. "You think you know better than your teacher?" the brunette challenged.

"I do not think I know more," Ludwig raised his chin slightly in defiance. "But I _know _that I'm right about this. Look at my hands. They are over the correct keys. I haven't moved them."

The aubergine eyes glanced down, but still Roderich shook his head. "You were incorrect."

The blonde snapped his eyes down to his hands and studied their placement before looking back at the score sitting in front of him and then back again. "There is nothing wrong with my hands!" All tolerance was lost on the child at the moment, and he lost his temper. "What am I doing wrong?" he yelled. "What is it?"

A small part of Ludwig's mind told him that he should not be yelling at his teacher; especially since that teacher was the nation that had power over him, but the larger part of the boy's mind did not care in the least. He was _right _and Austria was wrong. Why did he have to bow to the other when he clearly knew what he was doing? Roderich must be going blind, or deaf, because the blonde knew for certain that he was right. Let the empire yell all he wanted, Ludwig knew there was no way he was going to back down when he was correct.

But Austria did not yell, or even appear annoyed. Instead, the empire had the audacity to smile. Smile! Seeing that smug look on the brunette's face made the blonde's blood boil and he wanted to punch the other in the face. How dare he smirk like that!

"Why are you smiling?" Ludwig demanded. "You should not smile when you're wrong!"

"Play," Roderich commanded sternly.

The sudden command threw the boy for a loop and his anger faltered for a moment in his confusion. "_Was_?"

"_Spiel_!" the older nation snapped.

Scowling right back, Ludwig stared at the older man insolently before placing his hands on the keys again and began to play. His fingers flew over the exact same keys they had before, only this time, the boy found himself pounding down on the keys harder in his frustration. He concentrated solely on the music, ignoring Austria, the sunlight that was flowing in through the window, and even the room itself. All there was, was the piano and the music. Eventually even the sheet music faded, and Ludwig lost himself to the music, pouring out his aggravation and all his emotions.

But as the song continued and the music room seemed like nothing more than a distant memory, Ludwig's mind began filling in a new picture. The music soon carried the boy to a different place, into a wide open field in the sun shining, and he could hear the birds chirping. Gilbert was there, looking the same as always, only dressed in some sort of black outfit. But that mattered very little, because he could almost hear Gilbert laughing, and it was almost like a memory, this daydream, as they ran through the field, giggling, and tumbling down hills together. A smile came unwittingly to Ludwig's face as his mind continued to wonder, and soon he found himself relaxing, his mind almost more focused now on his daydream than on the music before him.

When the piece ended, the boy opened his eyes and felt a shudder run through his body. He felt completely light, detached, like he had really been in that field instead of sitting on the piano bench. He shivered again and stared down at his hands in awe before looking up at his teacher.

Once more, he found Roderich smiling down at him. "_That _was correct," he nodded. "Do you see your mistake before?" he asked. "Music is not about strict precision, Ludwig. This is not your school work, nor is it the plans to a battle. Music is something else, a release, something that is expressive, almost alive." Austria grew silent and his purpureal eyes seemed suddenly very distant, very dreamlike as he stared out the window, as if drawing inspiration from the sunbeams. "Do you understand?"

Slowly, the blonde found himself nodding. He thought that perhaps he did understand it better. He had never felt quite so free before as he did just then, playing the music, not worrying about if his fingers were hitting the right keys or worrying about the sharps and naturals that littered the music. No, it had not been like his schoolwork at all. It had made him feel like he did when he was out with his brother on those rare days when they were both free and could do anything they wanted together, laughing and singing, even go fishing…

"Now," Austria broke the boy's thoughts. "Let's play something else. A lighter tune, I think. What about an English piece? They are not as fine as your musicians or as mine," the aristocrat stated snobbishly, "but they have a few well written pieces. Ah. Here, let's play this one."

Ludwig nearly rolled his eyes, but managed to stop himself. Austria was very proud of his music, and tended to believe that he himself and his people were the absolute best at it. Although the boy had to admit that Roderich had turned out an impressive amount of composures of great quality, not all good composers came from Austria. For instance, Ludwig was getting quite peeved at how his teacher insisted that Beethoven was Austria. The boy had done his research and _knew _for a fact— not to mention his gut feeling— that Beethoven was a German. But he supposed he should let Austria dream and he would silently continue to be proud of his own great composers too.

The boy was about to play, the two pianist heard Elizabeta's voice shouting from outside the door. The two looked at each other for a moment before Roderich stood to go see what was going on. He didn't get far when the door burst open to reveal a smirking Prussian, who looked extremely pleased with himself. "The awesome that is me has arrived!" Gilbert announced loudly before strutting into the room like a proud rooster cock.

"What are you doing here?" Austria demanded, his face turning red with anger. "What is the meaning of barging into my home like this?"

The albino did not look the least bit concerned. Ludwig supposed it would be hard to with your chest puffed out as much as Gilbert's was, but he kept that to himself. "Business," the northern kingdom replied flippantly. "I was commissioned by my king to have my dearest _Bruderlein _look over and sign a trade agreement."

"Really?" Ludwig's eyes sparkled at the thought of finally being able to do some real business. Thus far both Austria and Prussia seemed to have sheltered him for the real work, and that upset the boy. He had complained and fought with them several years ago now, his people had even risen up to protest, but nothing had come of it besides making the boy a little bitter towards Austria especially. But if he wanted to get strong one day and become his own country, he needed to learn how to work and figure out _how _to run a whole nation.

Gilbert's own scarlet eyes seemed to glow as he smiled down at his brother. "Of course, West!" he continued his offhanded attitude, which seemed to be grating on Roderich's nerves judging from how the Austria's eye twitched. "Don't think you can get out of working just because you have an awesome big brother like me. It's work time now."

The brunette seemed ready to start screaming— it was interesting how Austria's attitude could change to become so volatile whenever Prussia was around— but to his credit, Roderich seemed to swallow what he had been wanting to originally say, and instead, took a deep breath. "What sort of business do you have here?" his voice was strained.

The albino turned to his cousin looking completely disinterested, giving the other a long suffered look before answering. "Just some trade agreements that Fred wanted me to have Ludwig look at. Nothing to concern yourself with."

From her position in the doorway, Hungary snorted. She looked more than a little angry with having a Prussian come barging through her house like he owned the place, and it was clear that she was not inclined to trust Gilbert as far as she could throw him. "What sort of trade agreements?" she asked. "You know Roderich is in charge of overseeing the majority of what goes on in the German Confederation."

Listening to the adults bicker—like always—Ludwig scowled. He did not like how they talked over him like he wasn't even there. He was his own personification, and even though he was still small, he thought he deserved as much say in matters dealing with _his own _people more than anyone else! It wasn't fair that the others thought he couldn't handle himself. He was learning all the time, and he was certain that if they just gave him a chance he would not disappoint them. All he wanted was to at least _try_!

But before the boy could even open his mouth, Gilbert was ready with a comeback to the sassy Hungarian. "_Ja_, but this is just a little matter that has nothing to do with Austria. It's between me and Ludwig."

"But as the major empire over him, I have a right to know what's going on between the Germans and any other neighboring countries," Roderich growled.

"Sure you do," the albino shrugged nonchalant. "You'll be informed of events in a few days. Right now, I just need to talk to West about a deal."

"If it's such a small thing, then I suppose you wouldn't mind if Roderich stayed in the room while you two talk," Elizabeta crossed her arms over her chest with a huff.

A feral sort of grin spread across Gilbert's face, and it was in that moment that Ludwig truly believed something terrible was going to happen. While he deeply loved his brother, the albino was not known for his genial manners. Prussia was still very much a militaristic state, and as such, Gilbert was obliged to have a wicked sense of humor and an insatiable itch to get into trouble. So while the northern kingdom seemed perfectly at ease, not even the least bit worried, that smile told the blonde that his brother was more than likely brewing up trouble of some sort.

"Of course not," Gilbert's smile was enough to send shivers of foreboding up the spine. "He may stay, though I'm afraid he cannot actually listen to what West and I are discussing. It's a bit confidential at this time. You know how that goes, don't you Roddy?"

The brunette scowled at the nickname. "I would feel more comfortable if—"

"Relax, _Österreich_!" Prussia's red eyes flashed with a secretive sort of glee. "The German Confederation and I just need to talk for about ten minutes at most, then I'll be on my way. You'll be sent a copy of our agreement just as soon as I get back home. You have my word."

When Prussia gave his word, it was usually good. No nation had a spotless record of keeping promises, but Gilbert's record was better than some, and it added weight to his words. Ludwig stood between the adults feeling anxious. While Gilbert was good on his promises, the albino's pledges usually had double meaning or he would twist them into his favor. Or, the kingdom's promises were fulfilled in a manner that no one quite expected. So, hearing his brother pledge while remaining so calm and arrogant made the little blonde uneasy.

Roderich, on the other hand, seemed on full alert. Like his wife, it appeared that Austria was not about to trust his rival explicitly so quickly. Unlike Elizabeta, however, Austria seemed at least willing to work with the albino. After all, he was one of the largest empires in Europe, he was expected to give some leeway and make compromises lest he collapse under his own weight.

Eyes still narrowed, the Austrian finally nodded. "Very well. You may have thirty minutes to speak to the German Confederation."

"_Toll!_" Gilbert clapped his hands together, eyes immediately searching for his brother.

"But," Roderich went on before the Prussian could get too excited, "I will be staying here in the room with you."

"Then we'll speak quietly," the other's smile was tight, but he said nothing else.

The blonde found himself suddenly being pushed away by his brother to the opposite side of the room. Roderich and Elizabeta were standing near the doorway, watching, making Ludwig very uncomfortable under their intense gazes. When he chanced a look up at his brother, he found Gilbert still grinning like the devil himself, his back towards the other two nations.

"Okay, let's get this done with, West," Prussia said quickly, pulling out an official looking document from the inside of his coat pocket. "All you need to do is sign this." He spread the paper out on a side table, straightening out the wrinkles. "Oi, Roddy!" the albino snapped. "Do you have a pen?"

Ludwig turned in time to see Austria scowling fiercely at the other kingdom before he said something to Elizabeta. Hungary frowned, but nodded, leaving to room to retrieve a pen, the boy supposed. Taking advantage of the silence and wait, the boy decided that he might as well get something done, and picked up the document to read. He felt slightly pressured as his brother watched him with intense crimson eyes, but tried not to let that bother him too much.

As he read, Ludwig became more and more excited. This wasn't a proposal for a simple trade agreement, this was a German customs agreement. Reading through the particulars, it sounded quite good; free trade throughout almost all of the German speaking states! Ludwig could hardly believe what he was reading. If this was to go through, it would be a major breakthrough and would really help him be able to control his own rowdy little states. He knew his brother had set up free trade several years ago amongst a few of his neighbors, but if it was possible get more states to agree to this, it really would be a great help to them all!

Elizabeta came back into the room with a pen and inkwell. Gilbert met her halfway, not wanting her to get a look at the document Ludwig was reading. The albino gave her a sarcastic sort of smile to which she just glared at him before turning away to go stand with her husband. "_Danke schön_," Prussia said with mock-sincerity

It was hard not to pay attention to the bickering around him, but the blonde did try his best. Still scanning over the _Zollverein, _Ludwig's eyes widened when he realized one critical fact that was missing from the document. "_Bruder,_" the boy tugged his brother's coat urgently. "_Bruder_."

"_Was ist los, West_?"

Turning back to the document, Ludwig began pointing to the offending section. "It says that—"

"For Heaven's sake, West, lower your voice," Gilbert hissed, glaring down at the child.

The boy flinched slightly, not used to his brother being severe with him. "_Es tut mir leid_," Ludwig nearly whispered. "But I think you've brought the wrong document."

Slowly, another vulgar smirk appeared on the Prussian's face. "And why's that?"

Fighting the urge to squirm, the small personification tried his best to act grown up. "W-well, it says here that _Herr Österreich _is to be exempt from this agreement. Shouldn't he be included in this as well? I mean, we're all German-speaking nations."

Suddenly, Gilbert looked much different than the brother Ludwig had gotten used to over the years. All at once Prussia seemed somehow more intimidating, manipulating. Seeing his brother complete lack of remorse or worry made the blonde feel a little ill. His brother had always been a bit on the arrogant side, always so self assured, but it was only now that Ludwig began thinking of it more as a default. He wanted to believe that Gilbert had made a mistake by not including Austria, but he knew without the albino having to even say anything, that there was no mistake. Austria was being shunned on purpose, and from the gleeful expression dancing around in those blood-red eyes Prussia was all too pleased with the idea.

"There's no mistake, West," the other confirmed. "Austria is not to be part of this agreement."

"But he'll get angry!" Ludwig whispered urgently, fearing the argument and fight that would accompany this agreement.

"Exactly."

The little confederation was struck dumb for a moment. Did Gilbert really not care? Sure, he knew that his brother and Austria did not always get along, but something like this was major. What if Roderich declared some sort of war with Gilbert? He had heard stories of countries going to war for pettier reasons than being neglected.

Gilbert seemed to be able to read some of his brother's thoughts, because he sighed, causing the blonde to look up. "Listen, West, you don't always want Austria to rule over you, do you?"

Slowly, the child shook his head. He really didn't want Austria ruling over him. In fact, he didn't want _anyone _ruling over him. But there was this look in his brother's eyes that told the boy that the albino wanted to make some mischief, and he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to say.

"Well, look at this as the first step," he went on. "Austria's big and powerful, isn't he?"

"_Ja_."

"So why should he get to profit more on our people's labor? _Das_ _Zollverein _is just one way that you can build yourself up, West, become more powerful without having to worry about Austria. You can grow stronger while he remains the same. This could even be the very thing that helps make you and him equals, West. Think of that!"

"B-but he won't like it," Ludwig insisted. "What if he—"

"Who the hell cares about him?" Prussia snapped. "This agreement is to help _you_, West. I wanted to help _you_. Don't throw this opportunity away just because you're afraid of someone like _Österreich_."

"I don't want him to get angry though," the boy maintained his position. "This is a really good idea," he admitted, "but a lot of my states still look to Roderich, and I can't just ignore him—"

"And a lot of your states look to me." The big brother Ludwig knew was gone now, and the boy found himself alone to deal with Prussia. The little boy could not think of an occasion where he had been left alone with just the Kingdom of Prussia. He had always had Gilbert there in every situation, and now that his brother seemed gone, just a nation, the boy felt terribly weak and exposed, like he had done something wrong. "Sign the agreement, West. Your leaders are all in favor of this, having you sign this is just a formality."

The steely tone and utter lack of sympathy in his brother's manner made the child feel cold. It was almost like his brother didn't really care about him, like Prussia just wanted the _Zollverein _signed so that he could weaken Austria's position…But Gilbert wouldn't do that…would he? No, his brother wanted to help him, that's why he was being so forceful with this. His brother was just trying to do what was best for him, and that was all.

Or at least that's what Ludwig kept trying to tell himself.

Dipping the pen in the inkwell, Ludwig poised it over the official document carefully. He glanced up to see his brother nodding in approval, his face void of any emotion. The coldness that was being shown to him was not something the boy liked, and it made him feel nervous, scared even. So, while under his brother's steady gaze, Ludwig signed the form, doing his best to make his signature as neat as any child could. Once he was done, he looked up at his brother for support and he was not disappointed. Gilbert was back now, and smiling warmly down at him.

The albino ruffled his little brother's hair, before patting him on the back. "_Gut_. Now I'm off to give this back to King Friedrich. You and I will discuss the implications of this later on once everything has been officially settled. Try and have some fun while under Lord Prissy here," Gilbert snickered. "Goodbye, West."

"Gil—" but before the child could have said anything else, his brother had turned around and was marching out of the room, leaving Ludwig gaping after him.

When Prussia passed the Lord and Lady of the house, he gave them a mock salute before cackling loudly. "See you around, Roddy!" And just as quickly as he had come, Prussia was gone again. It had taken him less than ten minutes to conclude his business, just like he had said. But that did not comfort the little confederation he'd left behind.

Ludwig stood where he was feeling a strange mix of relieved and sadness. He was glad to have taken his first step into really improving himself, and like Gilbert had said, this free trade business would really help to build him up, and yet, with the exclusion of Austria, he felt anxious. Shunning the Austrian-Hungarian Empire was not something one did idly, and the fact that Gilbert was doing it so casually, even wanting to get his younger brother in on it, frightened the child. The young nation wasn't so sure he wanted, nor could he afford, to insult Austria.

"Ludwig, are you all right, dear?"

The blonde jumped slightly, shocked out of his brooding by the soft voice beside him. Looking up, blue eyes found green, and he stared up into the concerned face of Elizabeta. "Huh? Oh, yes. I'm fine, thank you."

The Hungarian woman did not look too convinced, but she nodded anyway. Roderich was soon by her side as well. "What was that all about, Ludwig?" he asked sternly, apparently still very much annoyed with the loud Prussian.

"O-oh, it was just some trade agreement forms," Ludwig said quickly. And even though he was telling the truth, he couldn't help but feel a bit dishonest. This wasn't _just _some old trade agreement, this was about _free _trade among Germans…an agreement that would not be including Austria.

"Are you sure you're all right, dear?" Elizabeta pressed. "You do look a little…pale."

"I'm fine, thank you," Ludwig said again.

"_Humph_," Roderich snorted. "He thinks he can just barge in here like he owns the place."

"My dear, please calm down," Hungary said gently, obviously not wanting to talk about Gilbert when Ludwig was so near.

"No, I will not calm down," the dark haired brunette snapped. "Ever since the defeat of France _Preuβen's _gotten an even worse attitude; thinks he's so far above everyone else. You better be careful around him, _Deutscher Bund_. He might not always look it, but that man is not to be trusted. He would stab his allies in the back if he thought he could get ahead."

"Roderich!" Elizabeta scolded. "That's enough, thank you."

Austria seemed to come out of his anger induced rant, looking slightly embarrassed that he had let the Prussian get to him so badly. The musician's face turned red still when he seemed to remember that Ludwig was still a child. "Yes, well," he fumbled about for words. "Please do be careful when you're around him, Ludwig."

There was genuine concern in the Austrian's eyes, and it made Ludwig uncomfortable. For years now he had listened to both his brother and Austria bicker back and forth, sometimes getting into heated debates about one subject or another, but it all seemed to be getting worse lately. And while Ludwig cared for both Gilbert and Roderich, their distrust for one another and rivalry was tearing the boy up inside. Roderich was worried about what Gilbert would do to his little brother when they were alone while Gilbert was just as suspicious of Roderich. The two were actually more similar than different, at least in how they viewed and distrusted everyone else.

Hungary must have seen the little one's concern, because in the next moment, Ludwig was brought out of his musings when she appeared at eye level with him. "You know Roderich only said that because he cares about you, right? We both care about you. We just want to do what's best in your interest."

In the back of his mind, Gilbert's words rang out in Ludwig's head; _"Austria's nothing but a selfish, self-serving bastard that build's his empire up on the backs of slaves_,_"_ he had once said. _"Never indebt yourself to him, West. _Never_." _Prussia had said this with such conviction, such certainty, that it had left the boy a bit speechless and he had not known what to think of it. There were times when Ludwig thought his brother just talked badly about Austria because he simply felt like being angry at someone, but there were other times when the child could see the real hatred the two kingdoms held for one another.

But Elizabeta was waiting for an answer, and while Ludwig was not quite sure how he felt about everything, answered the way he supposed they wanted him to. "_Ja_," he said after a moment, but did not go into further detail into his thoughts.

The woman smiled warmly down at the boy, though she did look a bit concerned. "_Jó_," she nodded once, forcing a smile as she stood. "Now, why don't you go outside and play a little bit? You've had a hard day today, haven't you?"

Austria still looked tense and frustrated while Hungary was once again trying to be the one to smooth things over. Knowing that he was probably not wanted, the blonde decided that perhaps he should leave like Elizabeta had told him. Nodding, Ludwig turned to leave and walked out of the room with his shoulders stiff and square, his back straight. He opened the doors just wide enough for him to slip through before closing them again. But he did not leave. Instead, the German pressed himself up against the door to see if he could hear what the adults were talking about. Normally Ludwig thought eavesdropping was wrong, but since no one was letting him in on anything, he decided that it was time for some drastic measures of his own. He wanted to know why his brother and Austria hated each other, and he wanted to know _all _the details.

When Roderich thought Ludwig was gone, the boy heard him let out a disgusted sigh before sitting down heavily in his armchair. "I just don't understand it, Elizabeta, I just _don't _understand it!"

"Please do calm down, my dear," the Hungarian hushed. "It's going to be fine."

"He's up to something, I know he is," the brunette growled. "Prussia's always up to something. He's a sneaky bastard, always has been. Thinks he can gallivant around as he pleases without having to explain himself to anyone."

"I know," Hungary said gently. "I've known him a long time myself."

"But I _know _he's up to something," Austria went on, as though he hadn't heard his wife. "His trade agreements with the other German states have been steadily increasing over the last ten years, and he's gaining more German support. Damn, he's already in control of more German speaking states than I am!"

The couple sat in silence for a moment, both deep in thought while the little spy outside the door digested what all they had been saying, trying to break it all down into facts without any biases. "What's he trying to pull this time?" Roderich started up again. "What if he's trying to turn Ludwig against me?"

"Perish the thought," Elizabeta said quickly. "Ludwig loves you, Roderich."

The pianist was still for a moment, making Ludwig press his ear up closer to the door to listen. "Not like he used to," his words dripped with bitterness, which thoroughly confused the boy. "All he ever seems to think about nowadays is what Prussia's up to. 'What is Gilbert doing now?' God, he can barely sit still in his studies without turning to the map that's hanging up and staring at the name _Preuβen_! It's disgusting how thoroughly Prussia's manipulated that boy. I honestly don't think Ludwig sees how selfish and truly vicious that damned albino is! I mean, my God, Elizabeta! I seriously doubt that everything Prussia's doing for the boy is strictly out of charity! You know how power-hungry that damned kingdom is!"

"I know, Roderich, I know," Hungary said quietly. "But what can be done about it now?"

"I wish I'd had the foresight when redistributing land in Europe after Napoleon to make sure Prussia was not in control over so many German states. I should have made sure I had more power in central Europe!"

"Roderich—"

"No! This is all too much, Elizabeta," Austria snapped. "I see what's happening, and I don't like it. Prussia's out to control Ludwig. Completely. Mark my words, he seems helpful and amiable now, cozying up to his brother, but you just watch, the moment Ludwig has his back turn, Prussia will swoop in and absorb all of that land and its resources."

"While I believe that Prussia is a great many things, selfish included, I doubt that he would kill the boy, Roderich," Elizabeta's voice waved slightly with her uncertainty, making the boy outside go pale. "There are few things that that man loves more than himself, but I believe that Ludwig is one of them."

Ludwig's heart was starting to pound with panic. His brother really did love him, didn't he? Gilbert wasn't out just to use him and his resources…right? But once more his musings were cut short when Austria began to speak again, the boy hanging on the other's ever word.

"You forget too soon, my dear," Roderich went on, his voice much softer. "Prussia was not so loving with his other brothers. He never once shed a tear when the other's passed away, if you'll recall."

"That was different, my love," Elizabeta's voice was still calm. "And we were all a little different than we are today when all the German states had their own personifications."

The pianist snorted. "But you do know how little he reacted when Gerwig passed." The confederation outside the door froze at hearing the name, it seemed to echo through his mind. There were not too many things Ludwig remembered of his past before Gilbert, but that name, Gerwig, sounded…perhaps not quite familiar, but like he should know something about it. "I remember when I went to tell him of the boy's passing. Not one tear, Elizabeta, not _one_ damn tear. He just looked at me and then snorted. 'Well, Austria, looks like you've done it again. Congratulations, you and France really did a number on him.'" Pain leaked into the brunette's voice. "_Das Schwein_."

"Come, come now, my dear," once again Hungary seemed the salve to Austria's temper. "We shouldn't dwell on this now. It's in the past. Why don't we go for a walk around the woods?"

The sound of a chair being scooted back slightly reached the child's ears from behind the other door. Ludwig stood still, hand over his heart, as he digested the information he had just heard. He couldn't quite believe it, nor did he really want to. Roderich made Gilbert sounds like…like a villain. It broke the boy's heart to even consider that that might be true. It couldn't be. Not Prussia! He was the one that saved Ludwig when he was all alone with no one, the one that named him brother without really knowing him, gave him a home!

But Austria claimed that Gilbert was never sorry when brothers died? Who were Gilbert's other brother? Why did they die?

Too confused, Ludwig pushed himself off the door, and wandered back to his room. He had a terrible headache brewing, and he wasn't sure he could do anything else today. All he wanted to do was lay down for a while and forget everything he heard, not liking the sudden feelings of doubt that rose up within him as he thought of both his brother and Austria. But even as he made it back to his room and closed his eyes, he could he quite get rid of the feeling that Gerwig was someone important.

**oOoOoOo**

Feliciano looked out into the woods of his homeland, face resting gently in his hands, before he turned to watch his older brother chop wood. The two Italians had recently started maturing, giving both their caretakers quite a shock when they realized that their charges were not the cute little girls they had thought them to be, but instead, were just two boys who happened to have retained a look of innocence longer than most boys. The younger Italian giggled at the memory of Mr. Austria coming in and actually hearing his voice change. He had been so pale! It had been hilarious!

"_Chigi_! _Figlio di Troia!_" Lovino swore violently, causing the younger brother to look up.

"What's wrong, Romano?" Feliciano asked.

"This _pezzo di merda_ fell over and hit my foot," Lovino growled, glaring daggers at the offending piece of lumber before he seemed to think of something and turned to glare at his brother instead. "Hey, why the hell aren't you doing anything, Veneziano? You said that if I chopped wood you'd pull weeds from the garden! What the hell are you doing sitting on your ass like that?"

The northern half of the country whimpered at his brother's wrath. "P-Please don't be angry, Romano, I was just taking a break."

"Well…fine, whatever," the older boy relented, softening when he saw his brother's scared expression. "Well, don't take too long. It's getting dark, and you shouldn't be out after dark."

"_Grazie, fratello,_" Feliciano smiled up at his brother, before the older mumbled something under his breath before turning to finish chopping the wood.

Letting his gaze wander a bit, Veneziano found himself looking northward, willing his eyes to see beyond his own land. There were days when he missed being young; terribly. Every time he looked north he couldn't help but think of _him_. Over the last almost thirty years, Feliciano had come to hate living with Mr. Austria and Miss Hungary because of _him_. Listening to German all day while being in the same house where he had once lived was too painful, especially since everyone seemed to have moved on, forgotten _him_, while Feliciano had not.

"_Fratello_?"

The southern half of the country swore again, having missed the wood due to his brother's soft interruption. "What is it now, Feliciano?" he growled, but when he saw his brother's sad, pensive expression, once again his anger stalled.

"Why do Mr. Austria and big brother Spain always send us away?"

Romano froze completely at his brother's words before he sighed. He walked over to the younger boy and sat down beside him, wiping the sweat from his brow with his shirt sleeve. "Do you really not know, Feliciano, or do you just not want to know?"

Veneziano looked up at his big brother with sad eyes, but otherwise did not answer.

Again, Lovino sighed. "Well, besides us not having been home for so long and needing to reconnect with our land and people, and all that other bullshit that Spain, and I'm sure Austria, spouted to you too, I think…ah, hell, Feli, do you really not know? I think everyone just wants to protect you because of that new nation."

"New nation?"

"_Sí_, you know, the one that repla—that is…well, you know," Romano stumbled about, trying desperately to think of the right words to say that wouldn't upset his little brother. "The one that Prussia found. The one that's taken over the German states."

Feliciano looked down at his hands, sorrow obvious in his features. "That's silly though," he said quietly. "Even though…even though _he_'s gone, I'd still like to meet…meet the new nation. Ve, maybe the two of us could get to know each other and become good friends too!"

The hopefulness in his brother's eyes almost broke Lovino's heart. Feliciano always seemed so stupid, but what was often mistaken for stupidity was often times compassion and optimism. Romano knew this because he felt it too, often time, though he tried to hide it. Italians were no longer the fierce conquerors that they had been under Roman rule, they were a simple people that just wanted to be left alone to enjoy life. They wanted quiet, having had enough of ruling most of the world, and just wanting to be at peace.

But Romano also knew that while that was ideal, that was not possible. The world wasn't a perfect place and it was filled with cruelty and injustice. Feliciano, poor soul, even after all of his own hardship, still did not seem to understand that completely, and while it was annoying at times, it was also refreshing to see such optimism. It was something Romano wanted to protect with his life if need be.

"Yeah, maybe you could one day," Lovino said quietly. "But now is not the time to think about this sort of thing. You need to get into the garden and pull weeds so that the tomatoes come up properly!"

Feliciano smiled warmly up at his big brother, feeling a little better about things. He hugged his brother tightly, squeezing gently, before jumping up and running towards the garden. "Don't worry, Lovi! I'll make sure the tomatoes come up extra good!"

"_Chigi_, you'd better hope they come up good, or I'll have to cut off your big toe!" the crankier Italian called.

"Wah! N-no, Romano! Don't do that! I'm pulling the weeds, see? I'm pulling!"

Lovino couldn't help but smile and shake his head fondly as he watched his gullible little brother frantically pull weeds out of the garden. But while he was happy Veneziano was feeling a little better about things, the older Italian couldn't help but frown as he looked to the north as well. Things were changing, he could feel it, unrest, discontent. Feliciano might want to stay innocent forever, might not want a fight, but Romano knew it was coming. Napoleon had only help stir stronger emotions in Italy, and while Lovino did not like to fight either, he knew if things kept up the way they were, something bad was going to happen. The only question was when?

Romano wondered if Veneziano felt it too, and turn his head to his younger brother. "_Chigi_! Veneziano, you idiot! Those aren't weeds, dammit!"

"Wah! I'm sorry Romano! Don't be mad at me!"

**oOoOoOo**

"Good, very good! You had no problems then?" von Wylich asked as he looked over the documents.

"None at all, Sir," Prussia shook his head, smiling viciously. "Let's just see how Austria reacts when we expand the customs union with the _Zollverein!_"

The Chief Minister smiled up at his nation. "Yes, it's time _Preuβen _started to expand its influence."

* * *

**Author's Note: **…I've had to do a lot of research lately. So, I hope you've enjoyed this tension filled chapter and getting a peek at Veneziano again, and Romano for the first time. ^^ Those two were fun to write. I believe that Romano really does love his brother very much and would do anything to protect him. I mean, he always stands up to Germany, doesn't he, later on? I always like to think of Romano as being a big teddy bear…that just happens to be covered with barbed wire. But poor Ludwig is in a tough situation being in between Austria and Prussia's rivalry. Ah, but 1848 is coming up fast now!

**History: **In the Congress of Vienna, Austria gave a lot of power to Prussia over the northern German states. At the time, Austria failed to see what would be Germany as a source of major economic power, but the Prussians saw some potential. Slowly, Prussia began forming custom unions with some of the northern German states, offering free trade. They wanted to expand this to all German speaking nations, but early on, the idea was rejected for being too radical, so they moved slowly, until the _Zollverein _(1834) was passed for free trade to include all German speaking peoples with the exception of Austria and Switzerland. It was Prussia's way of getting their foot in the door and win over the "Germans". Austria would not like this later on, and will be explained later on.

Italy and what will be Germany are feeling the pulling and unrest at this time. Both want to become their own, independent countries. The Italians wanted to get out foreign influence while the Germans just wanted to band together without having to worry about Austria or Prussia.

**Italian: **_Figlio di Troia- _Son of a bitch. _pezzo di merda- _piece of shit.

**Hungarian: **_Jó- _Good. (My Hungarian is VERY limited…)

**German: **_Spiel- _play. _Toll!- _(like) Great! _Was ist los?- _What's the matter? _Es tut mir leid-_ I'm sorry. (lit. It does me sorrow).

'**Nother Author's Note: **So, hope you liked the update, sorry if it was crap, and for Romano's potty mouth. But I love him so much because of it. X) Anyway, thanks everyone for reading, and reviews would be lovely. Let me know if there's something I can improve on, or if you don't quite understand something. I'd be happy to explain. :)


	23. Chapter 20: The Changing Tides

**Chapter Twenty: The Changing Tide**

Ever since the _Zollverein, _the German Confederation had become a different place. Ludwig found himself as a nation becoming stronger, more peaceful, and most importantly, more unified. It wasn't all at once, but it was enough to get the boy's attention, and little by little, it seemed that things were looking up…at least in that regard.

There was, however, increasing unrest in the hearts and minds of the Germans under his dominion. He felt it clearly, just as he felt the wind on his face. It seemed that the more his people came together, the more they wished to expel the forces ruling over them. Frustrations with Austria and Prussia particularly were wearing down the people, and Ludwig began to fear what exactly would happen.

It wasn't as though Austria or Prussia themselves actually noticed this change much at the moment. They were too busy picking on one another, constantly bickering; too wrapped in on their own affairs to actually care much about what exactly the little blonde was up to at the moment. Austria was too absorbed with his own empire, worrying constantly between his wife, Hungary, and his charge, Italy Veneziano. Rumor had it that the quaint little family unit was starting to fall apart after so many years.

Prussia, on the other hand, was found focusing almost entirely on his little brother, pushing the younger nation. It wasn't as though Ludwig minded all that much; he liked being with his brother, liked spending time with the older nation. But what had once started as a treat, seeing his brother more than a week a month, soon became less and less pleasurable the more Gilbert seemed to push his weight around. At first Ludwig had ignored it, attributing it to just inconsiderate play, that his brother did not really realizing he was being thoughtless. But as time when on, and Prussia's domination became more suffocating, the young blonde became increasingly annoyed and frustrated with his brother's actions.

Ludwig began feeling very uncomfortable around his big brother after that. Gilbert was not acting like himself and most of the time the boy was left alone in the truly intimidating presence of Prussia. It seemed that no matter what the Confederation did, Prussia demanded more. Oh, not outright, but it was becoming all too clear that the eastern nation was pushing, driving to get all that he could from the younger.

It was a scary thing. Although he could not rightly remember, Ludwig became suddenly very paranoid about his neighbors, Austria and Prussia alike. There was just something about the situation that made him feel claustrophobic, like the walls were going to crash down around him. There was this strange feeling in the back of his mind that told him not to yield to the stronger powers in around him, that it would be better to cease to exist rather than to allow himself to be dominated. This thought was so strong that Ludwig felt almost as thought he had experienced a similar episode before. It was unnerving.

No matter where he went or what he did, the young blonde could never get away from the rising rivalry between his brother and Austria. With his marriage hitting a snag in the road, Roderich became increasingly testy and irritable, more often than not flying into little fits, not seeming to care that Ludwig or Lilie were in the room, though with Hungary around to remind him, the pianist never really said or did anything too shocking with the children present. The brunette also seemed to become increasingly strict with all of his rules, not caring who he was upsetting along the way so long as _he _got his way.

As he watched and listened, Ludwig found himself becoming angry with Roderich. While it seemed Austria was trying to push down his own wife's people, at the same time, he seemed to be doing his best to appease Italy Veneziano while simultaneously exploiting the Italians. It was sad to see, but at the same time, Ludwig didn't know if he could do anything about it since he had his own worries to deal with. Primarily the fact that his brother decided that if he was to be as "Awesome as the Mighty Prussia", he was going to have to change.

Gilbert introduced into the boy's life, a rigorous training schedule. There was no more time for fun, it seemed and everything seemed to be business all the time. Prussia firmly believed that if a nation was going to get anywhere in life, they had to have the best military. While that was true on some levels, Ludwig began lamenting over just how keen his brother's interest in this was. Prussia's sessions were ruthless, designed to make iron out of his men. Prussian soldiers were the best in the world, but at the same time, Ludwig wondered if some of the things his brother was having him do was even safe. But like it or not, Gilbert would not allow his brother to miss a training session, and the blonde discovered what the seventh layer in hell would be like.

**oOoOoOo**

Ludwig stopped and doubled over, putting his hands on his knees, breathing raggedly, sucking in as much air as he could. His legs shook they labored to keep him standing and his sides cramped terribly. Sweat poured down his face and back, and he was sure that if he didn't get something to drink soon, he'd die. _This is too much! _

"West!" came an angry bark from in front of him.

The blonde was too weary to lift his head in recognition. It was taking all of his strength just to keep on his feet! Let Gilbert yell at him again, Ludwig didn't care.

"West!" The yelling was much closer now, and the boy could see his brother's booted foot in his line of vision now. "What the hell are you doing?" the older nation snapped.

"I…can't go…anymore," the boy panted.

"I did _not _tell you, you could stop! Now get your ass moving again!" Gilbert ordered, anger rising in his voice.

The little blonde winced at the tone, and while he was nearly compelled to start running again, the stubborn part of himself planted his feet firmly, not willing to budge. "I can't…run anymore," he said, better able to breathe now that he had a moment to pause. "I just need to…stop for a minute."

All at once, the boy found himself looking up, a large calloused hand having seized his face, yanking it to stare into a furious face. Ludwig winced, more from the scowl on his brother's face than the actual physical pain the action created. He shivered when he stared into blood red eyes, who all the while glared. "What did you say to me?" Gilbert hissed, his voice soft but sharp.

The younger German tried to look down, but the Prussian would have none of it and only raise his brother's head more so that they were looking at one another. It was scary, this look in Gilbert's eyes, and for just a terrible, fleeting moment, Ludwig was almost certain his brother was going to kill him. "I-I said I needed to stop…for a moment," the boy admitted, believing it better to tell the truth rather than lie.

The pale face of the albino twisted in disgust before his all but threw his brother out of his hands. "This is disgraceful behavior," he growled. "How dare you talk back to your commanding officer? How _dare _you disrespect me!"

Ludwig wilted at the harsh tone slapping him in the face, but he refused to back away despite what his instincts told him. He did not want to look any weaker before his brother than he already did. "I-I just—"

"I did not give you permission to speak!" Prussia snapped. "You're never going to amount to anything if you keep disrespecting me in this manner!"

The boy stood still, facing the terrifying nation before him. If there was one thing he had learned from over the last several years, it was not to speak to his brother when Gilbert was in such a state. There was no Gilbert at the moment, and there probably wouldn't be for some time until the older man calmed down enough to push back his Prussia side and allow his humanity to come out again. The duality between nations was something Ludwig was having to learn about as well as deal with on his own. He had never thought that it would be so hard, to be of the people and yet be a person himself. It was exhausting trying to keep up.

"Now, run back to the beginning of our course and start over again," Prussia demanded, red eyes glistening with fury. "And I don't want to see any slacking either! You push yourself hard _all _the time."

Remembering his mistake from last time, Ludwig raised his hand, not knowing if this was like school, but trying anyway. He wasn't sure just exactly he was supposed to do to gain permission to speak. But when his brother growled at him to go ahead, the blonde figured he'd done something right. "Gi—Sir," he amended quickly. "I-I know it's important to do your best, but… Sir, I'm tired. I just need a moment to rest is all. I'll do what you want, but if I can just take a minute to—"

"'A minute'," the albino scoffed. "Do you know just what exactly can happen in a minute's time, West?" Ludwig felt his stomach fall. "A gun could be fired and a person dead in one minute. A bayonet can skewer a man in less than a minute. Men can be ordered to charge to their deaths in a minute, or fall behind because they don't have the endurance to keep going!"

With each passing scenario, the blonde became more and more afraid of his brother. Gilbert suddenly seemed crazed as he paced back and forth, his eyes wide and wild, looking far away at nothing, at a time only he could see. Perhaps he was reliving a certain battle? Maybe he was seeing a collection of them. Whatever it was, Ludwig did not like seeing his brother like this and he wondered if he should try to stop him or if he should just let the memory pass on its own.

"Death can happen in a minute," the Prussian seemed to come to, looking calmer, though it did nothing to settle the younger German's nerves. It was an eerie calm, the kind that left your hair standing on end. "Your one minute of rest could ultimately be that one crucial minute in a life or death situation, and because of your laziness, in that minute, you'd be dead, or responsible for other people's deaths. So tell me, West, do you want to sit down a while?" crimson eyes burned into blue. "Maybe get a drink while you're at it?"

The blonde paled significantly, feeling sick. He managed to shake his head "no" before he turned and ran back to the beginning, putting all his effort into it, before he turned around and ran back. He was exhausted, he felt like he was going to die, but at the same time, Ludwig wasn't thinking about that. He was more troubled about his brother's frame of mind rather than his fatigue.

And with that, the two brothers continued on with their exercise, the older overseeing the younger's training. And all the while, Ludwig couldn't help but lament over seeming to have lost the love of his big brother.

**oOoOoOo**

Several weeks later, when Ludwig and Lilie were taken to Austria's house for their usual visitation, Ludwig couldn't help but feel relieved that he was going to have a week off from training. It was important, he knew that, but at the same time, he needed to rest. He did not like waking up to Prussia screaming at him to get out of bed, and then making him run for hours before he was able to even get a drink. A week off, away from Gilbert, was something Ludwig never thought he'd be pleased to have. But he needed the time to recover from the stiffness and weariness that now housed itself in his body.

As they neared the manner house, the two children noticed another carriage driving down the lain. The drivers were dressed strangely, causing both children to peer out the window to try and get a better look. As the carriages went past each other, the two little blondes tried desperately to look within, but the curtains to the other were closed, making it impossible to see.

"Who was that?" Ludwig wondered out loud.

"I think that was Italy Veneziano," Lilie supplied. "You know, the one that Austria has working for him as a servant."

The boy frowned at this. Things had all been happening so quickly lately, he had never really stopped long enough to worry about all of Austria's other servants. He found it strange that after all this time, after years of coming to the house, that he had never once met the Italian nation or his brother. Roderich was so prestigiously proud of having that land in Italy that Ludwig would have thought that his cousin would try and show it off the personifications as much as possible, but that had not been the case. Had he not known any better, Ludwig might have been tempted to believe that Austria was hiding the other from him…but that was ridiculous. What was there to hide?

"I wonder why I've never met him," the little German huffed, sitting back to his seat, waiting for the carriage to come to a stop.

"He's really very nice," Lilie smiled at her friend, though worry was evident in her features. She knew firsthand how tired Ludwig was, just how stressed he was becoming. She didn't want him to worry about someone he'd never even met too. "He's a good cook."

"And I'm sure he's a great fighter," the boy looked back, trying to make out the outline of the other carriage that was no longer in view. "I wish I could meet him. He's bound to be powerful…or he will be when he's older."

The girl across from him gave her friend an odd look, cocking her head to the side. "Why do you say that?" she asked, obviously not having any idea as to why the other would make such an assumption.

"Well, because he is a descendant of the great Rome!" Ludwig said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Rome conquered almost all of Europe and gained so much wealth! His descendents are bound to be as great as he was, right?"

Lilie was polite enough to look thoughtful before shrugging her shoulder slightly. "I do not think Veneziano is much like Rome…but who's to say that one day he won't be great?"

To the young German, it should have been obvious to anyone that Rome had been one of the greatest empires to have ever existed. Rome had accomplished more than anyone else that Ludwig knew of. Not even Ancient Greece had been able to do what all the Roman Empire had. So it stood to reason that anyone related to Rome would be a great power, right? Logically, the Italian brothers' had the greatest chance to become a strong empire over time if such things were truly passed down from fathers to sons, right? So to Ludwig, Italy would be a very great nation one day. But they were still young and needed to build up strength.

"I believe that he will be," Ludwig said confidently. "You can't be very weak and be related to the great Rome."

Once more, Lilie didn't look too sure about that, but she wisely kept her mouth shut and went back to looking out the window as Austria's home came into view. Soon enough, the carriage came to a lurching halt, and the drive got down to open the door for the two children. It seemed rather strange to Ludwig that the driver had to be the one open their door and not one of Roderich's servants. But the two children couldn't really think on that too long, because they were swiftly guided out of the carriage and their belongings set out beside them before the driver crawled back up and rode away, leaving the two little personifications standing the driveway alone.

Lilie looked at Ludwig, and he back at her before he shrugged slightly. The girl seemed worried, and grabbed her companion's hand. For once, the boy was too confused and contemplative to worry about the physical contact, and so, just held her hand. "Where is everyone?" he asked no one in particular.

"M-maybe we're early?" Lilie ventured.

The confederation looked up at the sun, shielding his eyes, frowning. "_Nein_, we're on time. It's almost noon now."

"Then why isn't there anyone to greet us?" the tiny kingdom sounded panicked.

"I don't know." Ludwig scanned the area again, but not a soul was in sight. "Maybe we should just go ahead on in."

"But there's no one to announce us!"

"This isn't a dinner party. That sort of stuff isn't important right now," Ludwig repeated his brother's logic, only now finding an occasion where formality didn't seem to work for the best.

So, straightening his back, picking up his pack, Ludwig pushed forward towards the house, still keeping Lilie's hand firmly in his. She needed him right now, and he was going to make sure that he took care of her. She was part of his confederation, she helped make him what he was, and that being as it was, he was going to watch out for her and help her as best as he could, even if it was just with the little things, like helping her get over useless formalities.

Making it up to the door, both children realized that the handles were so much bigger than they had first thought. But Ludwig had grown several inches already, and he managed to reach up and twist it enough to unbolt it before pushing the door open. The door was much heavier than it looked, being made from solid oak, but they somehow managed. The small accomplishment of actually getting into the manner by themselves, however, was short lived when the two children found themselves now standing in the middle of the foyer just as alone as when they had been outside.

The two children stood looking around for a moment before looking at each other. Where _was _everyone? Usually there were servants or other business men around, but at the moment, it almost appeared as though the entire place was deserted. It was more than a little spooky for the two tiny personifications, but they were not at all deterred from their quest of finding _someone_.

"If Italy Veneziano just left, there has to be someone still around," Ludwig muttered, examining the room.

"Over there," Lilie pointed, but made sure to keep her hand laced with Ludwig's. "I-I think I hear something coming from Mr. Austria's work room."

As the two little ones made their way tentatively to Roderich's work room, they could definitely hear signs of life in there. In fact, now that they neared the door, they wondered why they had missed the voices that were so very clearly yelling at one other. They could have probably heard it outside had they listened close enough. But while Lilie wanted to stop and just wait, Ludwig pushed them forward, curious as to whom Roderich was yelling at and about what.

"Ludwig," Lilie whispered urgently, but the German kept on until they were right outside the door.

The music room, which more often than not served as Austria's work room, was certainly full of an exciting commotion. The door happened to be cracked a bit, as thought someone else had already come to spy, but then left directly. And even though the boy knew it was wrong, remembered how much he had regretted spying on Austria the last time, he found he couldn't help himself, and peeked in. Lilie soon followed example.

Inside, pacing back and forth feverishly was Roderich. His face was scarlet, steaming like a tea kettle as he continued to shout. Standing near the piano was Elizabeta. She looked just as angry, but she was not shouting, at least at the moment. It seemed that the couple was in the middle of an extensive argument.

"—and has the _audacity _to come here with his diplomats!" Austria finished one rant, seeming to want to go on to another.

"Roderich, you need to calm down," Hungary snapped. Usually, from what Ludwig had always seen, Elizabeta was always very supportive of her husband, often times the one that calmed him back down into a reasonable state. But it seemed that she had had enough today, and she was not going to put up with anything from him. "The Italians have a right to come to you and—"

"Right?" the pianist spun around and glared daggers at his wife. Lilie only squeezed Ludwig's hand harder. "He has no _right _to come in here and make those sorts of demands! He is _my _territory! _I _am the one that makes the rules, not _him_!"

Elizabeta crossed her arms, looking about ready to explode herself. "You Germans think you're all so superior to the rest of us, don't you?" she growled, her words seeming to catch the irate man off guard. "You think that you can all just control anyone that you want by oppressing them and—"

Ludwig saw it apparently before Elizabeta did. Roderich's eyes were flashing with disgust and fury, and the moment his wife continued, he was on her, grabbing her wrists in his hands, glaring down murderously at her. It was so very unlike Austria, this sudden display of brute force, that even Hungary looked frightened, if for only a moment.

"We _Germans_," the empire hissed. "You seem to have a lot of distain for me recently, Elizabeta." His words were like ice, cold and sharp, cutting across the room, making it terribly cold. "Tell me, you think Veneziano was in his rights coming to me like this? So does that mean that mean you are supportive of your own little band of hell-raisers too?"

The Hungarian woman's eyes widened. "What? No!" She struggled to get out of her husband's grip, but could not. The conversation seemed to have turned from bad to deadly in a matter of seconds. "No, Roderich, I told you that I did not support them. How could you ever think that I would? They're just a small group—"

"Small groups can turn into large mobs very quickly," the other spat.

"Yes, I know that, but they're—"

"They're trying to kill me!"

The room fell into silence. Tears started to fall from Hungary's large, green eyes as her husband's words and obvious unspoken accusation cut into her already bleeding heart. Outside the door, Lilie sobbed, burying her face into Ludwig's chest. The boy himself was shocked, unable to quite grasp the situation that had played out before him.

But once the adults heard the distinct sound of a child crying, they both froze, Roderich with his hands still around Elizabeta's wrists while Hungary staring up at her aggressive husband, shocked. It only lasted a moment, before the woman pulled herself out of Austria's slackened grip, and pushed him away. She wiped her face furiously before plastering on a very forced smile. "Hello, is someone there?" Her voice was shaky, though she tried to sound cheerful. It only served to make the children even more wary.

Elizabeta opened the door wider, and both adults instantly found themselves feeling ashamed. Outside of the door stood the ideal picture of misery, as the little boy held on to the girl that was crying into his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her. It was a perfectly tragic looking scene, and it broke both Austria and Hungary's hearts.

"What are you doing here?" Roderich asked. It came out sharper than he had intended, his own anger at himself leaking into his voice.

When both children flinched, Elizabeta turned her head to shoot a livid glare back at her husband. When she turned back to the two, she tried to smile at them again, though her eyes were filling with tears. "Mr. Austria and I were just having a…big nation's discussion," she explained, but the little German detected the waver in her voice.

Mr. Austria. Not Roderich. That spoke volumes about how angry Hungary was at her husband. The adults might have wanted it to seem as though nothing was going on, but Ludwig saw through it just as easily as he could look outside the window. Things were most certainly not fine between the pair, and whatever "adult" type of conversation they were having, the boy knew what it amounted to. They were children after all, not stupid. There were times when Ludwig felt as though he knew more than some of the older nations that paraded around their arrogance and stupidity. Oh yes, Ludwig could see what was going on, and he did not like it. Not one bit.

"Why don't I take you both to your—"

"We can go there ourselves," Ludwig interrupted Hungary, pulling Lilie to him a little closer. If Austria and Hungary were getting into a fray, the young confederation did _not _want the girl to get involved in any way, shape, or form. If this was a "big nation's discussion" then they could very well have it and _not _involve anyone else as far at the young German was concerned.

Before Elizabeta or Roderich could retort such a tart reply, Ludwig turned, gathered his pack as well as Lilie's, before turning and ushering his friend away from the adults. Liechtenstein continued to grip onto her protector's shirt, keeping her face to his chest, as they walked on down the hall and towards their bedrooms.

It was a bit of a struggle to have to lug around two people's packs while also having his other arm commandeered by having to comfort the other nation, but Ludwig managed. He stopped by his room briefly, only long enough to throw his pack into the room, before he continued to usher Lilie to her own chambers. Once in the room, he shut the door quickly, setting down her pack before helping her up on her bed.

"Please don't go!" Lilie's grip on Ludwig's arm tightened, making the boy wince slightly. "I don't want to be alone if they start yelling again."

Blue eyes found cyan, and holding in a sigh, Ludwig nodded and sat down on the bed next to his friend. He wasn't sure if he was technically older than Lilie, but the boy was certainly protective of her. They weren't really sibling, or at least he did not quite feel the same about her as he did Gilbert, but he did want to watch out for her. He and Gilbert, despite their coloring not really looking much alike, thought the same, had the same sort of tastes, and more importantly, their people seemed so very close.

…At least in some of his states. There were other times when Ludwig felt as though he and Austria were more like brothers, or at least their cultures. Roderich, as a person, seemed too distant and didn't seem to share a lot of his own personal interests like Gilbert did. With Lilie…well, her culture actually tended to act more like Austria and even that nation Switzerland, and Ludwig thought that those two were much different than himself.

Relationships were complicated things among nations. Gilbert had tried to explain it once to him, but Ludwig found himself lost with the albino's vague answers. Any other time he tried to press for more, Gilbert would get angry or just ignore them in favor of moving on to a different topic. "You're my little brother, West. That's all you got to worry about," Prussia would say.

But despite the confusing complexity of personification relations, Ludwig did feel strongly for those that he cared about. Although Lilie might not be a sister to him, he would still protect her with his life if he thought it were necessary; Jean too, even though the older man would probably tell him not to feel that way. But much like his big brother, the German Confederation was loyal, and he would remain loyal and protective of anyone within his confederation or even those few nations outside of it, like Gilbert, Roderich, and Elizabeta.

Looking down at Liechtenstein, the boy found his companion had cried herself to sleep. Things must have really frightened her if she had cried that hard. As far as he knew, this was the first time that she had seen Austria and Hungary fight, not like himself, that had, in recent years, seen them bicker and snipe at each other more and more often.

What was happening to everyone? It seemed like the older Ludwig got, the more confusing and angry everyone was becoming with each other. From his first memory, Ludwig could recall only one real enemy, and that had been France. Everyone had joined forces to stop and get rid of Napoleon. Now that that man was out of the way, it seemed to open up new opportunities for everyone to fight with each other. Prussia and Austria were the main culprits in Ludwig's life that were trying as hard as they could to depress him and cause trouble. Those two had been changing so much and it really was starting to worry Ludwig. They acted like different people now…

But he could not be bothered with that at the moment. So what if Gilbert and Roderich were changing? Nations changed all the time that was how they survived. And while it was going to be hard to keep up, Ludwig knew that if he was going to survive, he'd have to change too. Europe seemed to be on the move again, to what end, no one rightly knew, but they could all feel it. People were becoming unhappy, nations were squabbling with one another, and Ludwig knew it was only a matter of time before tensions blew up and fighting would continue.

The only question was who would start it?

* * *

**Author's Note: **Okay, this was a really hard chapter for me to write. I had so many facts I wanted to use, but at the same time, thought they weighed down the story. So, instead, I tried to go a little easier and not be so specific, and just ended up giving you a vague understanding of all the tensions that were building up, not only in German speaking countries, but all around. So, sorry for the slight delay. It was really the first time I've had bad writer's block sort of thing. Hope you did enjoy it though!

**History: **With the _Zollverein _in effect, the Prussians had a lot more say in the German states. Prussia became the nation that they looked to more than Austria did. In Hungary, there were small groups of political people that were angry with how the Hungarians were being treated and resented the "learned Germans". Austrians looked down upon the Hungarians most of the time. Italy, however, was Austria's crown jewel. They loved the Italian culture and loved even more how much money they could get out of Italy. The Italians naturally became frustrated, but didn't do a whole lot considering Austria appeased them in some ways (not wanting to lose Italy), but continuing the exploit them and their money. Austria's worry over being killed stems from the fact that some Hungarians wanted to overthrown the Austrian monarchy, which, in a way, could lead to the death of Austria itself…it just made thing more dramatic. ^^

At this time too, the Prussian military basically kicked ass. Everyone wanted a Prussian officer in their army because they were considered the best of their day. Gilbert is already starting to shape Ludwig into the strict solider we all know and love.

'**Nother Author's Note: **Anywho, revolution is in the air for the next chapter, I think. And please do drop me a review, if you'd be so kind. I really do appreciate it. And thanks to everyone who's been reading, review, fav'ing, and putting this up for story alert. You guys are all awesome! :D


	24. Chapter 21: Revolutionary Air

**Chapter Twenty-One:**** Revolutionary Air**

**February, 1848**

Gilbert looked out over his home as he walked along side his king. Normally he would say he was feeling pretty good, but at the moment, he wasn't so sure. There was…something stirring. He wasn't sure exactly what it was or what was going to happen, but he knew something was coming his way. The very air told him that things were not as they should be; his bones _ached _at the feeling of discontent. He knew it for a while that some of his people weren't happy, all of the farming disasters and other epidemics were proof enough for that, but a part of him wished to believe that they would hold true to their leadership and this dissatisfaction would melt away like it always did. They loved their king…didn't they?

But despite his own people, the Prussian became increasingly worried about his younger brother. Ludwig's lands had been pretty upset lately, some of them even gutsy enough to claim they wanted their independence, their own nation. That thought both pleased and frightened Gilbert. He was pleased that his brother had people who loved him, yet he was distressed because if Ludwig became his own nation at last, not just a simple confederation, he would grow. And with as much strength as the young nation had already exhibited to the albino, Gilbert became increasingly worried about just how the boy would use that strength.

And against whom.

There was one man that he was not really proud to claim, yet it seemed that he and his brother were responsible for, that Prussia had decided to hate despite ever meeting the man: Karl Marx. That man and his friend Friedrich Engel had been nothing but trouble it seemed. They went around wanting to change the way things were. Marx even claimed that the monarchy was evil. _Evil_! The very idea made the Prussian scowl. Leave it to a crazed madman to declare what God had put into placement evil.

Even though the idea was absurd, it did give the nation reason to pause. These two men had gotten others to listen to them, had made some people doubt. But more importantly to the nation, they had gotten his _brother _to take pause and think about the ruling order. _That _was not something Gilbert liked. If Ludwig began thinking too much on their ideas, with as much potential as the boy had, who knew what would happen to him? What would he become then?

Sighing, the albino walked to his office and sat down with a heavy sigh. His little yellow bird flew from it's perch to sit in his hair lovingly. Smiling, the nation stroked it's soft feathers. "Some days I wish I could be you, my friend," he told it affectionately. "Not only are you awesome, but you don't have to deal with all of this shit that's going on… Makes me nervous," he admitted.

Looking about his slightly cluttered office, the albino knew he was going to have to clean it. Such a mess was unacceptable and quite frankly it annoyed him a bit, but he was busy lately and didn't have the time to clean it. He smiled to himself at the thought of just exactly how Ludwig would perceive the mess. That boy couldn't stand seeing anything messy. It always funny to Gilbert how much his brother hated little things such as mess or if things were unorganized. Holy Roman Empire had hated it, and now it seemed that the German Confederation did to.

Looking out the window, the albino sighed. He couldn't keep this up much longer, this constant bickering with everyone, especially Austria. Prussia was not a nation that particularly liked sharing, and sharing his brother with that aristocratic dult was becoming tiresome. Taking out his personal journal, Gilbert opened it up to the first blank page, and began writing, planning, on just how he was going to get his little brother all to himself.

**oOoOoOo**

Ludwig had known it was coming for a while, could feel the whole of Europe becoming more and more unstable. Lately, the more Ludwig worked, the more he got out into the world, the more displeased he became. He did not want to have to be under anyone anymore. He did not want to have to answer to Austria or anyone else. The pressures of a nation were coming down upon the little confederation and he knew that he _had _to do something. His people were crying out to him, and he could no longer ignore their pleas. He wanted to be free.

Over the last several years thing within the young confederation had not been easy. Growing threats from both France and Denmark kept the young nation on his toes, worried and ready for anything. To add on to the growing dread of invasion was the fact that famine and a cholera epidemic had broken out within Prussia and the German Confederation, making his already tired and hurting people more miserable, and it only seemed to scare the people more knowing that they were weakening all the while knowing that there were two quite hostile nations waiting at their doorsteps.

With all the mounting pressure, the young nation could feel something stir within his chest, he could feel it every night before he went to sleep, every morning when he got up and looked at all of his people. He longed to do something, he felt as though he had so much energy, and yet he did not know what to do with it. A part of the boy told him that he was probably just growing, and that he should be patient and remain calm, but the great part of his mind whispered traitorous things. Revolutionary things.

Despite his great desire to rebel, however, Ludwig did not want to be the one to start anything. He was scared, truthfully, and there was the ever present worry about the possibility of having to fight his own brother that sickened the boy. In the past, Gilbert had been the boy's only champion, his hero, the one that he could always count on to save him or help him in whatever he needed, though recently that's not exactly what the albino seemed to be doing.

Gilbert had changed for one reason or another. He no longer seemed like he cared about his little brother all that much. He was always bickering with Austria and he seemed to be constantly pushing Ludwig harder and harder. A part of the boy understood, knew that his brother was trying to make him strong, yet the other half resented the harsh treatment. He wanting things to go back to the way that they had been before, when he and Gilbert would go out on picnics and go fishing in the sunshine. He did not want to fight with his brother, he wanted his brother's love back and he would do almost anything to get it.

So, while the boy debated within himself, trying desperately to understand his true feeling on the subject of his brother, trying to figure out if he wanted true independence or his brother's love more, something happened that would start the changes in Ludwig's life. It came late one evening to the boy's house. A messenger from along the Rhine came and gave the news that the confederation had been waiting for both excitedly and fearfully for: France had once again began a revolution.

It had not been that long ago that two German men had authored a short book, _Manifest der Kommunistischen Partei._ Many were simply calling it the _Communist Manifesto _now, Ludwig included. It was because of this little book that really seemed to bring out Ludwig's desire to rebel recently. He had wanted to become his own nation since 1814, but no one would listen to him. Anger, resentment, being constantly pushed between Austria and Prussia had finally been too much. The _Communist Manifesto _had recently come out and after reading it, it almost seemed like a revelation to the boy. Why should his poor people be subjected to the rich, the kings, especially from other countries? Why couldn't his people be their own? Why did they _need _rulers that were so removed from the actual daily lives of the people?

Troubles times had once again settled in France, and Ludwig knew it was only a matter of time before the people along the Rhine welcomed the revolutionary wave and set out to start their own. It really would not be long now. Ludwig could already feel the rousing impatience of the people that he loved so much.

The messenger looked at the little confederation with large, concerned eyes. "Sh-should I go on to _Herr _Prussia or Austria?" the man asked.

The little blonde stared up at the man that had come into his house at such a late hour. He could tell the messenger was exhausted, sweat was almost dripping from the man's face despite the fact that it was winter. "No," the boy said after a moment, his features composed in a manner that made him appear much older than the nine-year-old boy that everyone saw him as. "Let them sleep peacefully for now." He knew it wouldn't be long before everyone found out anyway.

Giving the messenger another look-over, Ludwig stepped aside and motioned for the man to come in. The man did so, looking quite grateful to get out of the harsh winter winds. "You may stay here tonight," the nation said, trying his best to sound like the leader he was so desperately trying to become. "Have you had a meal?"

"No, Sir," the man said, shivering as the heat of the house enveloped him.

"Then come with me."

Ludwig led his guest into the house and into the kitchen. It was nearly midnight, but that mattered very little to the blonde, who was still deep in thought. He almost forgot about the man following him as they went, but once he entered the kitchen, he set down his small candle and lit several others. He gave the man some bread and cheese before getting him a cup of water. He moved to start a fire to make something hot for his guest, when the other shook his head.

"This will get me through the night, Sir. Thank you."

It was rare for anyone to call Ludwig "Sir" and he found it a bit intimidating. He was not old like his brother or Roderich, and when around the older personifications, Ludwig just felt so…terribly young, so inexperienced. No one seemed to treat him with the proper respect, the respect he felt he was due. There was something telling him that he knew much more than the others would give him credit for. There was something in the back of his mind telling him that he was much more experienced than the others believed.

He could never truly be sure, though. No one seemed to know how old he actually was. Gilbert had found him in 1806, but that did not mean he had been born that year, like Lilie had. Roderich had found the girl that year as a tiny infant, Gilbert had found Ludwig as a child, much older than the little girl had been, and yet no one could guess at when he could have been created. 1806 was the year that the Holy Roman Empire had been official dissolved, but Ludwig could swear that he had been around before that year.

But in the end, did it really even matter? The point was, no one seemed to respect him because of his youth, believing that he did not understand the world, and that fact upset the boy when he believed he did in fact understand. Was he being arrogant in his thinking, in his belief that he knew what was best for him, or did he really, honestly know? He _knew _that he knew what was going on, that he could handle it if someone just gave him the chance, and yet the older nations kept treating him like he was a bratty child that thought he could take care of himself.

Seeing the respect this human gave him, however, this normal, everyday man, not a king or prince, looking at him with eyes that spoke volumes of his trust and adoration for his small nation roused something in the boy. The other nations might not think he could stand on his own, perhaps not even the princes of his land, but the _people _seemed to believe in him. It was the _people _that drove Ludwig, not the rulers, not the others, just the _people_. He was a land of the people, and they had had enough. They wanted to be their own, they wanted _him _to be their nation. Ludwig could see it in this man's eyes.

The boy nodded once. "Very well. You may stay in the first room down the hall to the right. I believe I'll retire for the evening."

The messenger nodded, his brown, caramel like eyes softening, as though deeply touched at the generosity being given to him. "Thank you, Sir. Sleep well."

The gratitude and sincerity was not lost on Ludwig, and he found that it warmed him even during this cold winter night. He gave his guest a small smile before he went and shuffled to bed, carrying his tiny little candle with him as he went.

When he entered his room, he tended the fire before he went to his bed. As he laid down, he heard the clock chiming from the other room. "_Mitternacht,_" he mumbled to himself, rolling over on his side to stare out the window at the moonlight that washed onto the floor in silver waves.

It had been a long day, and it promised to be a very long year. And as he laid there in his bed, Ludwig could not help but realize that he was not the same child that Gilbert had found wandering in the woods one August night. No, that child was slowly going away and Ludwig could not hold on to that boy even though he tried. He had grown, he was becoming more experienced in the world of politics as in the true nature of the world. He had always known that the world was not perfect, but he had also learned that neither were the people you loved the most.

Turning on his side, the child tried to close his eyes and give himself up to sleep, but it seemed that he was not as tired as he first believed. His mind was buzzing with questions and worries that he had always tried so hard to quell. A part of him wanted this revolution, wanted it for his people, those that worked so hard in life, and yet the other half of him was afraid. He did not want to hurt anyone, and he was scared. What if he really couldn't handle the responsibilities of being his own nation? What would he do? His people needed him and he did not want to let them down.

And then there was Gilbert…what would he think if Ludwig was independent? The albino had been testy lately, seemed to get angry more easily and pushed his brother harder and harder. The affection that had once been so clear in the red eyes seemed to disappear almost completely now, and was replaced by looks of cold steel. What would Gilbert do if rebellions sprang up within the German states?

And that's when it hit Ludwig, as though he had been struck by lightning. All of his brother's lessons seemed to come crashing back to him, bridges connected one lesson to the other so clearly. All of the history lessons, all of the teachings on tactic, training him until Ludwig's bones ached… Gilbert had not simply been training him for the sake of training him, the albino had been getting him ready for _this_. Prussia had been getting the Germans ready for the hardships that were to come. Gilbert had been _waiting _for this day to come.

Despite the linger uncertainties that would not leave the boy, Ludwig could not help but feel weight being lifted from off his shoulders. It wasn't that Gilbert just didn't love him anymore, it was that Gilbert loved him so much that he was willing to look like the villain in order to save Ludwig. Everything that his big brother had done was to help him, not hurt him, and the realization nearly had the child in tears. Gilbert still loved him…

Turning over on his back, the blonde stared up at the ceiling and let some of the tension and anxiety escape him. It was true that tough times were ahead of him, there was no use denying that, but at the same time, Ludwig could not help but smile at the thought that he was no longer alone. Gilbert would always be there to help him, always had his best interest at heart, even if it did not always look that way. Perhaps total independence wasn't such a good idea. Who wanted to be alone? With his eyes sliding shut, Ludwig's last thoughts were of his brother, and wondering if they could possible come together to make their own country.

**oOoOoOo**

**Berlin, 19 March **

Things had been tense for a long time, Gilbert knew this, but what he had trouble believing was the absolute mess that he found himself in now. It was a total and utter disaster.

News had come to him that France was once again become unsettled. It seemed that he could not keep his people pacified for very long before they decided to rear their ugly heads up into the political happenings of the monarchs. It had not been too long ago that the blood-bath that had been named the "French Revolution" had occurred, and now it seemed that the French people's ever growing need for bloodshed was back again.

In all honestly, Gilbert didn't give a rat's ass what the French did or if they all decided to kill each other. That was fine with him. That was _their _business. What he did not like, however, was the fact that their bloodthirsty, rebellious manners seemed to have slowly found their way into the Rhineland and had spread until it seemed the whole of the German speaking states had been affected. What was so horrifying was the fact that Ludwig, his own brother, seemed to have taken a chapter from Francis's page and revolution was freely happening throughout the confederation.

What surprised the albino further was the fact that his own people were rising up, even storming Berlin, making demands of the king and of the government. They wanted more rights, wanted more freedoms, things the nation was honestly not sure they were ready for. It had started off as simple crowds shouting and protesting, but Gilbert had been around long enough to know that crowds can turn into mobs just as fast as a nervous soldier can make a mistake and one shot fired.

And that is exactly what happened. Shots had been fired and soon soldiers were fighting back violent civilians that had finally come to their boiling points and could not take it any longer. Barricades were constructed, men fighting men, and Prussia was forced to watch helplessly as his peoples blood flowed down the streets and into the gutters as though it was simply rain water.

Such revolutions were the one fight that nations such as Gilbert did not participate in. They could not, not really. Civil war was not something any personification could rightly jump into. Civil war was an inner struggle, a fight that a nation's own people fought amongst themselves, and as a representative of a nation, personifications could not rightly take sides. Both the working class and the upper class were his people, his children, and Gilbert refused to take a stance and chose one over the other. He could not.

And so, the fighting continued for almost twenty-four hours before the soldiers were ordered to retreat. But even in that relatively short amount of time, the damage had been done. Any Prussian blood spilt was too much for Gilbert and as he wandered the blood-slicked streets, his heart cried out.

Hundreds. Hundreds of people had died in just one short, though heated, protest. He didn't need to count, he knew how many had died, he could _feel_ it. He could hardly believe it. It left him feeling not only shocked, but sickened. It was times like these that Gilbert, warmonger that he was, could not understand the human need to shed the blood like this, not of their own kin. Why did they feel the need to kill their own?

Taking a deep, shuddered breath, Gilbert closed his eyes to try and calm himself. For the moment, the people were once again quiet, though he was not sure how long this peace would last. Friedrich Wilhelm IV had agreed to discuss the reorganization of the government and Prussia knew the king was going to do anything in his power to appease the people, anything to stop the rebellions within the confines of his own lands. Gilbert just hoped to God that what the king did do would pacify the people enough to at least ensure no more bloodshed.

But there was one little piece of information that floated to the nation's ever listening ears. People were whispering about the other German states, about the desire to become closer. German patriotism was ever present and despite the sorrow the albino felt, he could still feel the love of the people. Some even said that king desired such closeness as well, though Gilbert was not holding his breath.

Looking around at the mess, taking in the waste of so many precious lives, Gilbert couldn't help but shake his head, saddened and disgusted. He needed to speak with the king. Things were happening all across the Rhine, all across the German states, and while Gilbert's own influence and control only went so far, he knew that his brother was not faring much better in this mess. The boy had been fighting so long to become independent that Gilbert hoped that the chaos of these so called "revolutions" wouldn't break the boy. Hopefully Ludwig would come out of all this all right…

Coming out of his reserves, Gilbert found himself outside of the king's office. Without knocking, the nation saw himself in. Friedrich Wilhelm was sitting with his government, looking haggard and distressed. "_Preuβen_." It wasn't a greeting or a question; it was more like a fact being spoken out loud.

The albino knew that his king was not pleased with him when he had refused to help the day before with the fighting, but Gilbert did not really care at the moment. He could not kill his own, not like this. So, instead of answering, he merely sat in an empty chair near the king and the other men. All the while a strange feeling tickled at the back of his mind.

"The people want Prussia to merge with the German states," the king stated without ceremony.

Almost instantly a smirk slipped onto the albino's lips and it took all of Gilbert's will to remain seated and composed. After crossing his legs and leaning back casually, the nation turned crimson eyes on the human. The whispering of the people came back to him as did the rumors of the king's own desires to see this happen as well. "Is that so?" he asked instead, trying to look fairly surprised.

The king seemed to know he was being led on, but he allowed the other to continue his facade. "Yes. Did you know if this?"

Deep down, yes, Gilbert knew this. He knew this because that was his dearest desire. Ever since he had found Ludwig after the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire, Prussia had wanted to create something more with his brother, wanted to become a single German speaking state. He knew that his brother could be strong if unified, and he wanted nothing more than to be with him when the boy finally realized his true potential.

Smiling innocently in a way that was not believed for a moment by anyone that had known that nation for more than a year, Gilbert shrugged slightly. "Perhaps."

Friedrich Wilhelm did not at all look pleased. "_Verdammt Preuβen! _Speak plainly to me! Did you know that this was going to happen? Did you know that they would attack?"

It took so much more to intimidate Prussia then simply yelling. He was old, much older than these humans seemed to think, and if he could survive the wrath of Friedrich Wilhelm I then he could certainly handle _this _Friedrich as well. So instead of simply relenting, the albino scowled distastefully.

"If you are accusing me of withholding information from you, you might as well drop any and all accusations now. Nations have their own personal code, and on certain events I am within my rights to refrain from either speaking or helping my leadership if I am then expected to harm my own people. In this case, however, I was unaware that violence would occur as it all depends upon the situation at hand and how," he glanced at the guards that lined the room, "anxious everyone is feeling."

"So you did not know that we would be attacked?" the king pressed.

"No more than any of you. I feel the frustrations of the people, more keenly than you, Sire. I know what they want," Gilbert stated coolly. It always frustrated him when getting a new ruler at how dense they were when it came to the personality of their personification. True, they were young, but the albino was starting to tire of always having to train a new leader to understand him. Old Fritz was the only one that just seemed to _know_ him, seemed to understand his wants and wishes.

"And since you know the people's wants and desires, did you know that they wanted to merge with the other German states?"

Here, Gilbert had to work hard not to smile too much. This was news that had surprised him at first, but delighted him to no end. He had, in fact, not really known the people's desire of this, but it had been on his mind for a very long time. Personifications embody the people's desires and needs, but there is a small part of them that were their own, that held their own personal thoughts, a part of them that was separate from the people; their own humanity.

Ever since the albino had found his brother back in 1806 he had wanted nothing more than to be able to take care of the boy, to make the child powerful— make _them _powerful— and in the back of his mind, Gilbert had always wanted to merge lands. It seemed the most logical thing to do to stabilize the German speaking peoples as well as ensuring that they were influential. He had wanted this even before the people had, it seemed. So before today, he had never really been sure if the feelings he had on this subject were his own or his peoples.

Now it seemed that the Prussians had finally come around to their nation's way of thinking and wanted to show the world German might. It all suddenly seemed so possible, so very attainable that it made Gilbert weak at the knees. This could be it. This could be how he finally got his little brother once and for all. There was little Austria could do to stand in his way should all the Germans come together like this. After all, Prussia had been avoiding this because he was afraid of Roderich's reaction, as well as the rest of Europe, but now that not only Ludwig seemed ready, willing to become a proper state— and with Prussia no less!— Gilbert mentally said to hell with anyone else. His greatest dream seemed ready to come true.

"No," he answered carefully after a moment. The king looked as though he didn't believe the albino. "No, not really," Prussia went on. "I've always known that there was a strong desire among Germans to come together, to become something more, though I was not completely sure that these desires were so…strong."

The king sighed, looking distressed, though Gilbert couldn't guess why. Why would he be so upset? This was a good thing, this was a _wonderful _thing. Should Ludwig join him, they would become one of the most powerful states in all of Europe! This is what Gilbert wanted more than anything, and he knew that Old Fritz had always wanted him to be great too. And he would finally have his little brother all to himself!

"If you truly do not want this, _mein Herr_, then why have you agreed to the merging?" Gilbert asked carefully. The king looked up with wide eyes. The albino's red orbs brightened at the sight of fear before him. "Don't think that I didn't hear about that."

"What would you have done?" Friedrich growled. "I had to say something to appease them."

"You lied," Gilbert scowled. "My people, nor I, like to be lied to."

"We will have to see where all this goes, _Preuβen_," the king countered. "First and foremost my thoughts much be to Prussia, not on other states and their problems. Do you really want to end up like Austria?"

Gilbert had to fight back and growl. Yes, he knew that he should be grateful for having a king that was looking out for his best interests like this, but dammit all if he wasn't getting tired of having his hopes raised only to be crushed. He wanted so very badly to finally win his brother over once and for all, but now it seemed like he might once again come away disappointed.

Sitting back in his chair, Prussia scowled. No, despite wanting to gain control over the German states once and for all, Gilbert really didn't want to end up like Austria. While Prussia had his own problems, Austria was different, he had his _empire _to look after and it was no going well. Gilbert had to appease Germans, his own, Roderich had Germans, Hungarians, Italians, and others.

"Then what would you have me do, _mein Herr_?" Prussia asked, looking at the human expectedly. Even if he was frustrated, he still had to answer to this man. This was still his king.

Friedrich looked thoughtful a moment, before sighing. "For now, I think we should make an effort to look like we're trying. We need to open talks soon with others about a new system of government. Let them all bury their dead for now."

Nodding, Gilbert was at least satisfied that the king seemed motivated to keep the peace and willing to open up to listen to the people. When the humans began their talking again, the nation stood and went to the window to stare outside. He wondered briefly how his brother was and if he was all right. Revolutions were hard, especially on a child.

Sighing once more, Prussia decided that all he could do was wait, wait and see what hand was dealt him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry about not updating in forever. It's canning season, so I've been minding the garden and then having to pick beans and then now corn while doing other farm chores in this 105 degree weather (that's about 40 C ). BUT, yesterday and today I had some time off, so to relax, I began doing more research on the 1848 Revolutions for fun before I wrote this, and then practiced translating some German… **Am I cool yet? **

Yeah, if Ludwig's thoughts and feelings seemed really sporadic, that's good, they're supposed to be. He's confused and trying to deal with everything that's happening. He doesn't understand what he really wants to happen, just that he wants _something. _He wants to be independent, and yet he wants Prussian aid. Actually, everyone's in a mess right now, so you'll see that more next chapter.

**History: **_The Communist Manifesto _was written in 21 February 1848 by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engel. Coincidently, France began its "February Revolution" as it was call, the day after, on the twenty-second of February. The Germans began their big move in March, little uprisings occurred everywhere, from Rhenish Prussia, Saxony, Bavaria, Baden, and would go into Austrian Empire, Poland, Denmark, Switzerland, Belgium, and even a little big in Ireland. AND, for all our Latin American friends out there, revolution even stirred in Brazil and New Granada (which is where present day Colombia and Panama are now).

In the early 1840s, Denmark and France became increasingly hostile, France wanting to take the Rhine and Denmark, Schleswig-Holstein. There was also a bit of famine in Prussia and the German states in 1846-7, as well as a cholera epidemic. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's basically where you can't keep anything down and get dehydrated. (that's the nice way of saying it)

There are many reasons why things blew up the way they did in Europe, but some of the main reasons are political and social unrest and ever growing sense of nationalism. For this story, all you need to know is that it was pretty much a little of everything that upset the balance and it was a very confusing time when rulers and royalties were all trying to save their skins. More will be explained in part II.

**Side Note:** Friedrich Wilhelm I—who was Old Fritz's father—was crazy and terribly abusive and liked to beat people, whether they were simply commoners off the streets, his own son, or even visiting royalty or diplomats with canes…He was not a nice person…That's why Gilbert said that if he could survive FW I he could survive anyone.

'**Nother Author's Note: **So I do hope you all enjoyed this, and thanks for your patience. And if you have any questions, feel free to message me. I'll be happy to answer. And, as always, I BEG for reviews, let me know that my time being nerdy with research is not all in vain. **Thanks everyone!** :)

**PS! **I put up a new poll, so please go check it out if you can. Thanks~


	25. Chapter 22: Bitter Gains

**Chapter Twenty-Two:**** Bitter Gains**

**March 1848**

Ludwig sat in amongst his people as they argued and shouted at one another, each one trying to voice his own opinion on how they should address the council in Frankfurt. Some people believed that they had acted too harshly, that they were unprepared and needed to quiet the passions they had burned; others wanted to keep fighting until they had achieved absolute independence, until they became powerful. With the stories and legends of the great French Revolution still living on and remembered by the people, however, they were all still too aware of what could happen should things get out of control. It was strange, or perhaps not so strange when remembering that once grand revolution, that all of them saw need for a leader, one who would govern them fairly, if not strictly, to keep order.

"We have no one! What good is a nation without a leader?" one man cried, slamming his hands down on the table.

"If we don't get someone to govern us, this little one, this dream, will fade away!" a young man pointed to Ludwig, who continued to sit silently.

"But who, then, can we trust?" a tall man in the back demanded. "Who is there that will bring us to glory, who would love _Deutschland_ as much as us?" Everyone knew what that meant, and all eyes suddenly turned to the child that sat amongst them. "What do you say, _Herr Deutschland_?"

A shiver ran down the boy's spine at the title, a title that Gilbert had once given him, too, long ago.

The room faded into silence, everyone waiting for their personification to speak. This whole time, the boy had said nothing, he had not done nothing. He was confused, confused about everything. His emotions were more turbulent these days. He was angry for the way he had been treated and passed around by the other nations, which sadly included his brother. He longed to be himself, to be independent and rule over himself. But most of all, Ludwig was scared. He had never been on his own and he was scared that he would fail.

What would he do if he were independent anyway? Could he really govern himself and live on his own? Could he make it in the world, especially when the world seemed so intent on swallowing him up and dragging him to hell? What if he let everyone down, all of his people? He could not bear the thought of ruining their dreams. He was not sure he could go on throughout the world in such disgrace if that were to happen.

Under the expectant gazes of all the men that were present, Ludwig swallowed hard. What did they want him to say? Did they really expect him to have some sort of brilliant idea, the answer to all their problems? Because it wasn't really _their _problems, they were _his_ problems, they were _Ludwig's_. How could they expect him to come up with a solution when his whole mind was in turmoil? He wasn't even sure what to do, nor could he even figure out what category to place his own brother anymore.

Was Gilbert someone to be watched and distrusted, or was he really the only one that Ludwig _could _trust?

He had come to the conclusion a while ago that Gilbert had been training him to prepare him for times like these, when the world seemed set on extinguishing the life bound to it, but that did not mean Ludwig necessarily forgave his brother completely. He was still upset with the kingdom. Sure, he believed that Gilbert loved him, and, unlike many other nations, wished the best for him, but despite all this, it was still hard to accept his brother's almost cruel behavior at times. There was still a bitterness that the boy could not let go of.

Yet that was part of growing up, at least in Ludwig's mind. Growing up meant that you had to be hard, that you left behind the soft coddling of childhood, and it was about time that he start getting away from all that. Gilbert saw that, that's why he altered his behavior accordingly. After all, Ludwig was on the brink of nationality, perhaps independence; he could not afford to be weak, and certainly could not run off to "big brother" when things got hard.

But then again, he was not sure he was ready for that responsibility. Sure, he planned, he plotted out moves, ideas, but he was still small and weak, and in Europe, that was never a good thing. All of the bigger nations were just waiting to pounce. They were spiders waiting for little flies to come to them in their webs. The idea frightened Ludwig. He did not want to be used anymore. He did not want this uncertainty any longer. He just wanted to be safe! He wanted stability.

"I believe," he said after reflection, "that it would not be wise to leave me on my own," he admitted with a slight blush.

"What are you talking about?" one man asked. "You're right here with us!"

"What I mean is," Ludwig glared at the speaker, frustrated that no one seemed to understand him, _his_ manner of speaking. Had they all really been without a personification of their own for so long? "—that having a _Deutschland _at this time…it's not going to work. I do not believe that it is wise for me to be on my own, to be independent. It is asking for ruin," he admitted, hating the bile that rose in his throat at the proclamation.

"Then all this is for nothing!" someone cried.

"No, it's not!" another argued. "_Herr Deutschland _is just unsure about how strong he really is. But _we _are strong, so you are," he turned to stare at the boy. "You are, _Herr Deutschland_."

"Strong enough to drive out others, but what about strong enough to keep them out?" Ludwig challenged, hoping that everyone would see the point he was trying to make. "No, I do not believe that I can be independent, and in such a world as this, why would I want to be? Europe is determined to see me gone. But I will not have it."

"But what is your mind, _mein Herr_?" a young man with cerulean eyes spoke up. "You are the heartbeat of this all. _You _are the one that is so greatly affected by all this. What say you?"

It was the first time in a long time that the boy could remember a human asking after him and taking in his humanity. The only other human that he could remember that had been so directly concerned about him, had been Ida, and he had let her down. There were nights when Ludwig still had nightmares about the day she died. Her death had seemed so meaningless, so empty. The only comfort that Ludwig could gather was that she had not died alone, that he had been with her. Maybe she knew that too? He could only hope. She had been another fragile being that seemed to truly care about _him_ but not only as a nation. His hand automatically went to his neck where he kept her ring on a chain.

Although the blonde was struck by the young man's concern, it did not warm him. Deep down, Ludwig knew that this concern stemmed from the fact that no matter what happened to _him_, it would affect the people as well. He was a reflection of them, of the people. Of course this young man was worried about Ludwig; it was natural to be concerned for those that could directly affect your own happiness or life.

"If you would really have my say in the matter, I am certain that not everyone would agree with me," he warned.

"It does not matter," the first arguer spoke up quickly. "What is your say?"

Sighing, wondering how humans could think so one-dimensionally, the boy shook his head a moment, lamenting over how little everyone seemed to think of others. "I am for," Ludwig found himself pausing to survey the people around him. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, as if waiting for him to dispense to them the ultimate meaning of life. It unnerved the young nation.

"I am for a Prussian king," he tried to make his voice sound confident, strong. If he were to be a proper nation some day, he needed others to see him in a light of authority.

The room fell silent as the humans looked at their personification incongruously. "A 'Prussian' king, _Herr Deutschland_?" an old man spoke up.

"_Ja_." This time Ludwig did not hesitate to answer. Despite having his own misgivings, he knew enough to know that he could be on his own or he would parish. And even though he was still a bit bitter with his brother, Gilbert really did seem to care, and even if it was folly to trust so much, Ludwig did. He could not stand the idea of his brother betraying that trust.

"Prussia is one of the most powerful countries in all of Europe," Ludwig went on while he still had everyone's attention and silence. "Prussia is our brother nation. Prussia is strong and influential. I have heard that the Prussian king has already made steps into resolving the complaints lain before him by calling us all to this assembly."

Everyone sat still for a moment, just staring at the boy. There was something about the young nation's manner, his determined air, that caused all complains, all protests, to die on the tongues of those that were gathered. It was true that they were not all as united as they would have liked to have been, that there were those that fell more to the right and those that fell more to the left, but when they listened to the little personification, all their differences seemed to melt away. Perhaps they _could _come out of this all right. Maybe the boy really did know what would be best.

The silence that settled began to unnerve Ludwig more than anything he could remember thus far in his life. This was the first time that he had actually gathered a crowd around him, had people actually listening to him, to his words. This was the first time that people did not just see him as a child that was too young to know what he was talking about, but listened to and respected him as a nation. It was exhilarating.

Yet terrifying.

And so, as the blonde watched his men look around at one another, Ludwig was forced to wait for an answer, not knowing if it would be one that he would liked or not. But whatever it ended up being, he hoped that his brother would not be too angry with him for acting up as he did. Because in the end, it really did not matter to Ludwig should he become his own independent state, as long as he had his brother to care for him he knew that everything would be all right.

**oOoOoOo**

**January 1849**

Austria sat back in his chair, running his hands through his hair, his face contorted into something akin to panic. He felt like the room was closing in around him and he couldn't breathe. This could _not _be happening. It just could not be true.

All around him, revolution was in the air. It had started in France, of course, but unlike the last great French Revolution, this one caught fire and was quickly devouring the whole of Europe. He knew things had been getting bad in Europe, that the people under his control were not all particularly happy; but this? Roderich had never imagined continent-wide revolution! Hungarians, Italians, Poles, Czechs, Croats, Slovaks, Ukrainians, Romanians, Serbs, and Germans were all rising up against him from every angle and it frightened the brunette more than anything had in a long time.

How? How could this have happened? After the defeat of Napoleon everything had been supposed to go back to the way it was before the war. Territories were supposed to obey their masters and the great powers were supposed to stay on top. But ever since the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire, things had not been the way they had once been. Deep down Roderich knew that they could never go back to being normal, but he could still hope.

Sighing, he stood up from his desk and stalked to his music room, the only place where he truly felt safe. And happy. It seemed like there was very little in the world that could afford him happiness nowadays.

Sitting down at the piano, Austria placed his hands on the keys, noting how cool the ivory was against his fingertips before he gently began coaxing a melody from the instrument. He toiled over reading the music for a moment before he realized that he was not in the state of mind to even play his beloved pianoforte. He would not disgrace the instrument with his inadequate playing, yet he yearned for the familiar comfort playing gave him.

He paced about the room agitatedly for several moments, his mind and body full of nervous energy, before he plopped down in a chair, forcing himself to remain calm, even though his mind was in a wreak. It had been a long time since he felt like this, since he feared for his own life. It had been a while, too, since he had felt so much heartache.

He was unhappy, and not just because it was likely that he would lose territories. Roderich was unhappy because his wife, his dearest Elizabeta, was not with him. It was very likely that she would come to fully divorce him, and the thought of it made the empire ill. He did not want her to go…He loved her.

Tilting back his head and covering his eyes, Roderich moaned. He needed to do something, but he didn't know what to do. His king and government was just as worried as he was, but every time Austria tried to give his own advice or lend the humans his experience, they turned him away. They believed that he was "too much agitated with the affairs of the state" and that "it would be better for him to remain at home until the revolutions were completely taken care of".

"Fools," Roderich muttered to himself. Truly humans were a breed of weak-minded imbeciles. The "affairs of the state" were directly connected _to _him! It astonished Roderich that the men didn't seem to understand that even after so many years of service.

So what if he had gotten emotional when Hungary's name was mentioned at the meeting? So what if he had cried out when they proposed ideas to crush her? She was his wife, after all, was it so unbelievable that a husband should want to have a say in how to rein in his own spouse? Though, perhaps Austria shouldn't have screamed in the emperor's face.

But was it really so unnatural to be concerned with the state of affairs going on around him? After all, he _was _the empire! He should have a say in whatever was going on. It was his right!

Standing up again, Roderich began pacing. It wasn't just Hungary he was concerned about either. Besides Elizabeta, he was mostly concerned about Feliciano. The young Italian was one of his main sources of income. He relied on the taxation of the Italians as well as them buying his goods. But besides that, was the boy even really capable of taking care of himself? Did he even know the first thing it meant to be on his own? Perhaps the boy had found his brother...

In all honesty Roderich couldn't care less if the other nations did not rejoin his empire, or if he stopped making money. It meant little to him on a personal level. Who he cared about the most was Elizabeta and Feliciano, not Hungary and Veneziano. They had been with him for a long time. The three of them together had been a family.

And he wanted that family back.

Looking out his window at the snow, Austria felt cold. Nothing had been going right; none of his plans thus far had given him any hope. Was his family to be divided forever? He couldn't handle this. He needed them back! He didn't want to be alone!

Biting the inside of this mouth, Roderich fought to keep himself calm. He felt like he was being literally torn apart. Sure, the empire was in shambles, but it was more than that. He knew the pain of being hurt in the national sense. He had been created to fight, to go into battle. He knew what it was like to suffer, to feel the agony of his people being killed, the malcontent of their feelings forced against him. What he could not accept was the aching in his heart over the loss of the ones he had loved most.

Many thoughts raced through the brunette's head at the moment and he wondered if there was anything he could have done to prevent this from ever happening. There probably was somewhere along the lines. He could have probably have treated the people in his empire more fairly. He could have made sure that everyone was suppressed sufficiently. He could have demanded Russia and Prussia to come help him in accordance to their agreements in the Holy League, though that pact had faded by years ago now.

In any case, Prussia probably would not have come to his aid anyway, at least not where the Germans were concerned. Everyone knew that he had wanted to create a Germany after Napoleonic wars. Everyone knew that Prussia was trying to win his brother back. Gilbert had pushed back a slight German revolt only once before only because it went against him.

But what did the albino think now? How was the "awesome" Prussia taking in the news of the new revolutions in the German Confederation? This was the first time Ludwig had rebelled in a significant sort of manner. The boy was causing problems all along the Rhine and elsewhere, and had even caused bloodshed in Berlin. What amazed Roderich more than anything else, though, was the fact that Ludwig had been able to turn Prussians against their own government where the Confederation was concerned. Prussians wanted a Germany, other Germans wanted a Germany. What was going to happen to them all?

Nationalism was truly a dangerous thing. It was the cause of all this, Austria was sure of it. Nationalism led to segregation, Germans only wanting to ally with other Germans, Italians only with other Italians. So what was to become of empires like Austria? What did this nationalism mean to him?

True, Roderich knew that the only reason Ludwig was even still in existence was due to nationalism, the people's hopes and dreams keeping him amongst the living. But that did not necessarily mean that nationalism was a good thing. It had led to these terrible revolutions, after all, to the bloodshed of so many innocent people. Not for the first time, he cursed France. Why couldn't that long haired bastard keep his people in check? It never failed, it seemed just as Europe was finally at peace, France's spawn would rise up and cause problems.

Slumping back down into a chair, the pianist looked out his window longingly. What was going to become of them all? Did the people, any of them, whether they be Austria, Hungarian, or Polish, realize what they were really doing? Did they even understand that their fights were hurting and breaking up their nations' families? Humans were selfish creatures, full of contempt and hatred, and it never ceased to amaze the old nation of how close minded and foolish they could be.

The empire heaved a sigh before deciding that perhaps he should spend more time trying to figure out what he was going to do to end these pointless battle and less time lamenting over the human race. It was a hopelessly confusing philosophical debate he had with himself as he could never truly love or hate them.

But it was time to forget about that. It was time to work.

**oOoOoOo**

**March 1849**

Prussia stormed through the halls of the palace, his cape billowing behind him. His strides were long and agitated. His face was masked with fury, his red eyes burning with anger. Anyone that saw him instantly knew to stay out of his way. Prussia was on the warpath.

As he was wont to do, the albino burst through the doors of the king's office, with no thought of waiting outside to be invited in. "What the _hell _have you done?" he demanded.

The king did not look at all surprised to see his loud nation standing there. In fact, Friedrich looked as though he were expecting something of this sort from his nation. "Won't you sit down?" the king replied calmly.

Glowering, Gilbert clutched his hands into fists at his side. "Don't talk to me like that!" he growled. "Answer the damn question!"

Again, the king did not look the least bit troubled by his personification's rude and threatening manner. "To what are you referring, _Preuβen_?"

Gilbert clenched his teeth together so hard he was certain that they cracked under the pressure. Cinnabar eyes narrowed into slits as he seethed in anger. "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," he whispered venomously. "How _dare _you go behind my back and set up a final meeting with the representatives of the German Confederation! You had no right!"

"No right?" the king scowled. "I had every right, _Preuβen, _as you well know. I am your king and I ha—"

"You have none!" the albino screamed, slamming his hands down onto the table that stood in between him and the king. "How dare you do this to me. Me! The one who has only ever cared after the people, the one who spilt his blood for these very people! _I'm _the one that protects this land, these people, and _you_!"

"But you seem to be forgetting one critical detail," the king narrowed his own eyes. "_You _are bound to this land, to the people. It doesn't matter how much you say you defend them, how much you love them, because in the end, we both know that you're only doing it because you have to. It's in your own self-interest."

Gilbert was shocked by the bold words, by the audacity, but couldn't speak before the king continued. "And as bound as you are to this land, you are therefore also bound to me. _I _protect _you_, _Preuβen, _and nothing you say can change that. You are the one that owes me respect and gratitude for making you stronger, for keeping you alive."

"If that were true, your _highness_," Gilbert sneered, "then I would have come into existence the day that scrawny ass of yours came into the world. But as it is, I have lived many years without you, and I can certainly survive many more when you're gone."

"It doesn't matter exactly who needs who more," Friedrich shook his head exasperatedly, trying to hide his annoyance with his nation. "The point is that you're here because of the meeting that took place."

"The meeting, the _vote_, that you held behind my back!" Gilbert shouted. "You told me that it wasn't being held until tomorrow when I got back! And here I come back from checking on the issues along the Rhine, and I find that the assembly is over! And what's more, you dismissed the German ambassadors' proposal to merge with the Confederation!"

The human king looked tired, he truly did, and it might have quieted the nation's rage into pity had he not be literally shaking with fury. "Prussia—"

"No!" Gilbert screamed. "How could you do this? How could you turn them away like they were nothing at all?" The nation had to fight down the tears that threatened to gather in his eyes.

"It wasn't the right time, _Preuβen_."

Gilbert scoffed. "My ass it's not time! They were here, they came to _you _and you turned them down! How dare you decide such a fate without conversing with me first! How dare you go around my back! You're a coward, a weak coward, Friedrich! You couldn't even come to this decision without sending me away first!"

The man looked about ready to start screaming, and it reminded Gilbert of the other kings in his past. Even though he had had some wonderful kings, none of them had been particularly kind. They all had the same sort of quirk to them, this viciousness that really seemed to surprise other nations. It never really surprised Gilbert much, though. He, too, had a hidden brutality in him, bred and maintained after centuries of fighting for his life, fighting the encroaching presence of other, more powerful nations.

Because of this, however, Gilbert was not necessarily affected or deeply moved when others yelled at him anymore. He was used to having rulers, from pagan kings to strict knights, yell at him, or even beat him on occasion. There was very little to be gained when it came to arguing with the albino nation because he feared very little anymore. All fear had been chased out of him from a very early age.

And this king knew it. It was no secret amongst the nobility of Prussia. Kings passed down not only the kingdom, but the knowledge of their personification as well. It was well known that the kingdom of Prussia was overwhelming with his boisterous manner and his cunning. It was known that the nation was sharp tongued and stubborn, with a hidden vindictiveness to him. It had been learned that if one were to control the power of Prussia, all that had to be done was outthink the nation. You could not use force against him, he was too strong for that. No, in order to get results from Prussia, you had to do what he wanted, had to show him what he was doing was worthwhile.

Knowing this, Friedrich sighed. "It was not the right time, Prussia," he repeated again, trying to calm himself. "Ruling over the Germans would have been a hallow gain."

"But a gain none the less," Gilbert spat.

"You would have me as emperor by name only? To try ruling a revolutionary state with no real power?" The king stared incredulously at his nation.

Gilbert stood a moment, knowing, but not wanting to admit, that his king was right, in a sense. "Power can be gained over time once you secure the title."

"That would have been difficult, _Preuβen_," Friedrich shook his head. "You know as well as I do that the Confederation is still not stable enough for an emperor. The deal they presented to me wasn't good enough. All that would have been gained was that I get a bigger title with no real power to control them!"

"But there would have been a _Deutschland_!" Gilbert yelled exasperatedly.

Friedrich narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You would have a Germany without gaining any power for yourself? Why?"

Gilbert knew that perhaps he was going a little far, but how could he back away now? He was _so _close to his dearest wish. He could almost taste victory, almost smell success. It was all there within his grasp, and yet Friedrich would have it elude him completely.

"We've been waiting to create _Deutschland_ since before the defeat of Napoleon," he explained calmly, hoping that his change in tactics would make the other see reason.

"But why?" the king pressed. "My father desired it only because the people desired it, yet I have no recollection as to why the people _would _want such a thing. What would they gain?"

"Family."

Friedrich was taken aback. "_Was_?"

"Nationalism," Gilbert went on. "All of the German speaking states and our own people see themselves as brothers, kinsmen. Although many, we are the same, we are _great_. We are something to be feared. Why did the French domination last as long as it did? Nationalism. Why were they able to pick themselves up so quickly after Napoleon's final banishment? Nationalism."

At Friedrich's confused expression, Gilbert decided that perhaps he should make things in simpler terms. "What, in the past, has always made France strong? They were _unified_. They had nationalism. They came together as one people. That's why they were able to set out on such a large campaign, that's why they were able to get so far, why they were able to conquer most of Europe."

The king did look thoughtful, but the albino was distressed to see resolve set on the man's jaw. He knew the answer before Friedrich even opened his mouth. Suddenly Gilbert felt very heavy, like he had just been in a great battle, fought as hard as he could, but nothing was gained.

Not wanting to hear the refusal, he turned back towards the door and left, never once glancing back or slowing his stride. If Friedrich called out to him, Prussia didn't stop. He didn't want to look at anyone at the moment. He was furious and upset. He didn't need his greatest wish denied him out loud. He didn't want to taste the sourness that was rising in his throat.

When he opened the door to leave, however, he found that someone had been waiting there, apparently listening in on the argument. Gilbert's first reaction would have normally been anger, as someone had been spying on a very confidential topic, but the sight of tearful blue eyes, it stopped any antagonism cold.

"He's really not going to take me, is he?"

Not for the first time that week, Gilbert's heart shattered. He walked forward quickly, slamming the door behind him shut, before he knelt down before his little brother, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. "West, what are you doing here?" he asked gently.

The boy looked extremely disappointed and angry as he squirmed out of brother's hold. "Get off of me," Ludwig muttered miserably.

Although it hurt to have his brother so opposed to the physical comfort, Gilbert obeyed and relinquished his hold on the child. "Come on," the albino said gently. "We need to have a talk."

The boy before him was biting his lower lip, looking as though he were desperately trying not to let the tears fall from his eyes. Ludwig nodded once before he waited for his brother to direct him. Trying to help, Gilbert smiled down at the child, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder as he lead him through the confusing halls. Eventually the two came to the garden, where they usually ended up when wanting to talk.

When they were out in the court yard and away from listening ears, the albino wasted no time in speaking. "What did you hear?" Gilbert asked brusquely. There was no point in stepping around the issues, and pleasantries served no purpose.

The blonde looked away, but did not look offended by the bluntness of the question. "I heard FriedrichWilhelm say that he would not take me…that he didn't want me."

The bitterness and pain behind the words only served to infuriate Gilbert all the more. "That's not true," he found himself saying before he could stop himself. At his brother's pointed look, the albino elaborated. "What I mean is, he would like to have you very much, West, it's just… he's afraid you aren't quite ready yet."

"What does that even mean?" Ludwig snapped. The question took Gilbert completely off guard. What did he mean, "what does that mean"?

"West, you're not ready," Gilbert shook his head, trying desperately to think of another way to say this, to make his brother understand.

"And why does he get to decide that?" the blonde demanded. "Why does a foreign king get to decide that the German states aren't ready? What does he know of us?"

Gilbert found himself in the rare situation where he had absolutely no idea of what to say. What _could _he say to that? The boy was obviously confused, even embarrassed and resentful by the rejection of the Prussian king. It hurt the older nation to realize that he and his government was causing so much pain to the one person that Gilbert loved most.

"West, please try to understand," Prussia pleaded. When icy blue eyes were locked onto him, the albino knew he had the boy's attention, but had to speak quickly if he were going to keep it. "My king is afraid that if we merged, that things would be too chaotic, that your people might try to disrupt the rule that the Prussians create. But more than that, he is afraid that your people will not listen to him as divine ruler, and that they will see him as emperor only by name. He is afraid of an empty title."

The scowl on the blonde's face only intensified and the acrimony never left his eyes. Gilbert could tell that Ludwig understood, perhaps even had doubts of his own where unification was concerned, but it was obvious that the boy had hoped despite all this. Ludwig had hoped just as passionately as Gilbert had, and now both their dreams, after being so very close, had been shattered.

"You're not supposed to admit a weakness to another nation," the boy mumbled after a tense and awkward moment of just standing still in the garden.

It might have been an impertinent statement, but Gilbert found himself smiling. "_Ja_," he nodded after a moment. "_Das ist wahr_."

The two brothers found themselves settling into a not-uncomfortable silence. They eventually came to a stone bench and sat down, just looked around and taking in the clear day. It had been a while since they had been able to come together like this. Truly, it felt like years since they had last seen each other despite the assembly that had been held over the course of the year. Political messes in both the Confederation and in Prussia had kept their personal lives away from each other for too long.

There were days like this when Gilbert truly despised being a nation. He hated it just as surely as he hated France for nearly killing Gerwig completely. Times like these seemed rare, when the Prussian could just sit back and enjoy the silence with his brother and do nothing. It was different being with Ludwig than with anyone else. No matter who he was with, be it human or other nation, they all wanted to speak to Prussia, they wanted to talk politics. But when he was with Ludwig, the boy never called on him in the name of Prussia, at least not first and foremost. Whenever greeted, the boy took him as _Gilbert_, as _Bruder_. Not even Old Fritz had ever done that.

The two continued to sit for another moment, allowing the quiet to calm them before Gilbert shifted. "It's going to be a long year," he muttered, chancing a quick glance at his brother.

Ludwig nodded in return. "_Ja_…But this hell only lasts so long."

Gilbert smiled bitterly, proud, but sad, that his brother was learning about the world.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I have returned! Hello everyone, sorry about not being around a while. I've been having a pretty busy real life outside of fanfiction (**GASP!**) lately with moving into a new apartment and then getting back into the swing of school. But I hope that this chapter will appease you.

**German: **_Das ist wahr- _That is true (you should know the rest. .)

**History: **The German Confederation is still after unifying and becoming their own nation. There is a growing sense of nationalism that just explodes by the time of the 1848 revolutions in Europe and the Germans' solution to the problem was to just become one big Germany.

The Prussians, who up until this point had been _longing _for a merging with the other German states into a Germany, rejected the idea of unifying at this time on the basis that the states were rather radical at the time and unsteady. Although the Prussians would have deeply loved to have gained the whole of what is now Germany, they did not want to risk not only angering the other European nations at this time, but also ruin their own government and system. King Friedrich Wilhelm really did see the offer of emperor as an "empty" title. He wanted to be able to count on having control of all the Germans, which at this time, he was not assured. Although both Germans and Prussians wanted unification, it just wasn't the right time as the German states still weren't quite willing to put aside their own monarchs and/or power to Prussia completely.

At this time Austria is just one big mess to put it bluntly. The empire is falling all apart because everyone is getting into the idea of nationalism, and for big empires like Austria, who is made up of many different nationalities, that's **bad**to put it bluntly. Hungary, especially, at this time is revolting against Austria full force, and Italy isn't much better. (Hungary at this time is pushing out Austrian forces) I just wanted you to remember that he's in a mess, because it will be important later on.

And "The Holy League" isn't something I made up. It existed. The "Holy League" was a proposition suggested by Russia's Tsar Nicolas I (you remember him, right?) after Napoleon, to come and help any fellow nation who might be experiencing a revolution. The idea was that if one country were to have a revolution, try to throw out their monarch, that the other fellow countries would come and help put an end to it. This was suggested because of the "France incidences" because their revolutions caused nothing but trouble to everyone else. This would stop all that and save everyone grief. It was called "Holy" for the sake that this league promoted the idea that God was above all, and (more importantly really) that monarchy was a good, even divine, thing. Basically it was like a Crusaders movement saying that if you have a monarchy and were all Christian, you were awesome and the best. The main members were Russia, Prussia, (does that surprise you? It doesn't me) and Austria. Neither France nor Britain were a part of this. But nothing really came of this "League" as you can tell. It was pretty stupid and no one helped anyone out.

'**Nother Author's Note: **So if you come away with anything from this, let it be the fact that the Germans and Prussian desperately wanted to create a Germany at this time. I mean, come on! In all honesty, Prussians only fought as hard against Napoleon as they did because they wanted to create a Germany and had hoped that they could rule over the German states and not Austria. This is fact. I know 'cause I'm taking a class on Europe from 1815- modern times in university, and my professor told me that all my facts and assumptions for this story are correct…though I didn't tell him I only wanted to know because of fanfiction purpose. _ **But** I'm just so pleased to learn that all my characterizations of Gilbert especially are 100% correct, and his desperate desire to get his brother is completely historically sound~ ^^

Anywho, please drop me a review, it feeds this poor, starving university fanfiction author! I'd really love to hear from y'all! Thanks to everyone who does!


	26. Chapter 23: The Race is On

**Dedication: **To NekoFye who has been ill recently. And to DA4TheFunOfIt for being my emotional support lately. Thank you!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three: The Race Is On**

**1850**

Roderich sat scowling at all the other nations across from him. He was furious with them all, and he was almost so angry he couldn't even look at them without screaming. All them, these people were the ones that had tried to kill him. These were the nations that had almost completely dissolved the Austrian Empire.

Next to him, Russia sat smiling. Roderich knew he owed a great debt to the Russian Empire for his services in aiding to put an end to all of the rebellions across the Austro-Hungarian Empire, but the other was content at the moment with only a sincere thank you. It confused Roderich, but at the moment, he didn't think that he should be complaining much. He escaped the last two bloody years intact and somehow managed to come out remarkably well, all things considered.

"As you can see," the Austria address his wayward charges, a hint of condescension ringing in his voice. "A few simple rebellions cannot take down the Austrian Empire. Your pathetic attempts to destroy me have failed. As you all learned, Austria has many friends that would help defend him in times of great peril, so keep in mind that I am _not _as weak as you'd all like to think." He glared at each of them in turn.

"You will all stay put in my empire. Anymore rebellion will but snuffed out. Totally and completely," his voice dripped with deadly challenge. "Are there any questions?"

No one raised their heads; they all continued to look down at their hands or at the table. No one dared to look into the furious eyes of Austria or the deadly orbs of Russia. It was clear that the larger empire was just waiting for the chance to attack one of them should they try anything. For the last several years, Russia had been fending off the revolutionary tide like a man possessed. It was clear that the Slavic nation feared the ideas of the radical innovations revolutionaries called for and had done anything in his power to make sure that the new ideas never got close to his own home.

And that's where Austria had gotten lucky. He had been able to play off of Russia's fear of revolutions; so when the Slav had asked to become allies, so desperately wanting to keep his own land safe he even went as far as helping out the other empire. With Russia's help, Roderich had been able to put down all rebellions against himself with little to no harm done in the end.

It was really quite a wonderful outcome for him. He had not lost anything at all. With the exception of Emperor Ferdinand abdicating and being replaces with Franz Joseph, everything pretty much returned to the way it had been. And for this reason, for his utter dedication and goal to preserve the empire, Roderich came to adored Franz Joseph.

But that was all beside the point at the time being. The fact was Austria had lost nothing during the revolution, but gained a stronger emperor. With Russia's assistance, the whole of the Austro-Hungarian Empire had been saved.

Roderich's eyes strayed and fell on Elizabeta. The woman was glaring down venomously at her hands, as though she were willing her eyes to catch them on fire. He had always thought her eyes were beautiful when she was angry, how the emeralds would come to life, glowing with splendor and power. She was an exquisite lady, and he had always counted himself luck that she was his wife. He loved her.

And that's why her revolutions hurt so much more. She had betrayed him, tried to destroy him. He couldn't believe she hadn't known what she was doing; she was too smart for that. Everyone knew that should the Hapsburgs fall from power, so would the very nation of Austria. There had been a few tense moments during the past couple of years that Roderich had been very close to succumbing to complete and total panic over his life. The very existence of Austria had been in trouble, and Elizabeta had known that.

Scowling at the pain he felt in his heart, Roderich looked away. "Very well," he spoke up, contempt hiding his hurt. "If there are no more questions, then you are all dismissed. And Hungary," the woman looked up for the first time, but not into his eyes. "You and I will be talking later on."

The woman frowned bitterly, but nodded. She gave an exaggerated curtsey to mock him, before she stormed out with the others, presumably to go find Veneziano and make sure the boy was coping well.

When the door was closed, Roderich sighed and held his head in his hands, massaging his temples gently. "That went much better than expected, _da_?" Russia asked from beside him.

"I suppose," Austria muttered before sitting up again to stare at his ever smiling comrade. "Would you mind fetching the German Confederation for me?"

"_Da_, I will," the Slavic nation said. "Though I wonder at your not having him just come in with the others. Surely _Lapooshka _could have understood all that you've said to the others?"

"Of course he could have," the Austrian grumbled slightly. "But _Deutscher Bund _has… his own special case. His revolutions were not like the others, and therefore, I must speak with him separately."

"Ah, yes, I remember now," Russia's smile sweetened. "While you were away fighting in the east and south, he went into your blind spot to—"

"I am very aware of what happened," Roderich snapped, glowering at the larger empire. "Now please go and get him."

The eastern empire did not look phased by the rude behavior of his counterpart, and instead, let out a small chuckle. "As you wish," he grinned.

Only a moment after Russia left, he returned with the child in tow, a friendly hand on the boy's shoulder. Austria took a moment to look over the blonde. Ludwig had certainly grown since last he'd seen him. The boy looked a little older, his face not as round as it had once been. The blonde now stood tall and erected, shoulders more squared, face ever grim. Prussia had gotten a hold of the boy, Roderich noted distastefully, and it seemed the red-eyed nation had been able to coax out Ludwig's more militaristic traits a bit.

"Sit down," Roderich ordered as soon as the child stood before him, noticing the bruises and other wounds that still lingered on the young revolutionary.

Unlike the other nations, Ludwig sat down straight and tall, staring Austria directly in the eyes. It took the other by surprise. Staring into those frosty blue orbs was like being dunked into ice water in the winter. There was so much power radiating from the boy, so much bitterness, and had the boy been able to succeed in his revolutionary goals, he truly would have been something to be feared.

"Do you know why I've called you here?" Roderich went on, trying his best to remain poised, despite cold eyes burning into him.

"_Ja_," the boy nodded. "You wish to speak with me about my revolutions."

Straight to the point. Blunt. This had always been in the blonde's character. "Yes. What do you have to say for yourself then? How do you justify the almost complete and total destruction of the Austrian Empire?"

"Little. I wanted to become my own empire," Ludwig's eyes hardened, and the truthfulness of the statement stunned the empires across from him. "I wanted to be a German-cultured nation. I'm merely a territory to you, Austria, and I wanted to be something more than just a confederation."

"And your justifying almost destroying the Austrian Empire?" Russia spoke up, his well known morbid curiosity radiating in his usually cold eyes. "What have you to say for that?"

"I wouldn't have had any part in destroying Austria," the boy scowled. "I am not technically part _of _his empire. I am merely a confederation which is overseen by him and his dominant rule. Should he have fallen, I would have been caught up with my own affairs, not wholly related to what would have happened to him. I have very little to do with the direct deals with Austria."

Frankness, truthfulness, the boy's candor was almost to the extreme. Roderich could not think of another nation at the moment that was known for such brusqueness. Gerwig had been rather good at being painfully honest, and it seemed that trait had not been washed from the boy now that he was Ludwig. It was sad to hear such answered from just a child, despite the boy having lived over a thousand forgotten years. Even though the blonde was a nation, hearing such things from the lips of one that appeared so very small and fragile certainly hurt.

"You are within my realm of influence," Austria recovered soon enough, trying to hide how unnerved he really was with the child. "Your leaving the Empire would have been a disgrace, and would have helped to end me."

"How?" Ludwig challenged. The others were taken quite unexpectedly by the question. "I was undergoing the same things you were, what was I to do? Send my military to aide you? _I, _as I am, have not formal military might to offer. Divided, I can do very little."

"And that's why you welcomed the Prussians." It wasn't so much a question as a detached observation the Russian made with his unruffled smile. "Prussians are quite known for their military, _da_?"

"Silence your tongue," Roderich snapped at his companion. He did not want to bring up the topic of that backstabbing albino quite yet. He looked to Ludwig for a reaction of some sort, anything that might clue the Austrian in on his feelings for the kingdom, but the boy gave none, and continued to stare straight ahead, not so much a blinking.

When the blonde gave him nothing, Roderich sighed. "Ludwig, your part in your actual revolution is of little consequence to me. As you said, you were divided and had troubles of your own. The real treason behind your actions lies in your conspiracies with the Prussians." The boy stiffened slightly. "Tell me yourself, what were you trying to do?"

For a moment, Ludwig looked as though he were either going to burst into tears or just refuse to speak. But after a deep breath, the blonde did answer. "I asked the Prussians to work with the other Germans to write a constitution in which the Prussian king would become emperor over the German speaking states."

Hearing the news like this made Roderich's heart ache. He had honestly wanted the boy to lie, to tell him that Prussia had pushed the meetings, even though he had known that wasn't true. He wanted to believe that Ludwig wouldn't really try to go behind his back like this and leave him alone. But here it was, right from the child's mouth, with an honesty and candor that he just could not appreciate. The boy's apparent lack of delicacy certainly did more to wound his heart than the boy's actual actions.

Before he could speak, however, the doors in the back of the room slammed open to reveal the devil himself. Both Austria and Russia jumped, Roderich gaping for a moment, while Russia quickly recomposed himself. Ludwig remained still in his seat, as though he knew that at that exact moment his brother would appear. It did nothing to appease Roderich's paranoia.

The albino strode up to the desk, as though it were his own, and glared heavily upon the group. He jerked his head down to stare at his brother who was looking up at him with impassive eyes. "Go wait in the hall, West," he said gruffly.

"Stay, _Deutcher Bund_," Austria stood up as well, not liking having to look up at the Prussian. "I'm not finished with you yet."

Gilbert snapped his head over the glare at the other German power. Roderich had to fight not to look away, and he swore that he was being incinerated with those fierce ruby eyes. Without looking away from the Austrian, Gilbert spoke through gritted teeth. "Go wait outside, West."

To both Austria and Russia's surprise, the boy stood up and walked towards the door. He left the group with one last frosty, bitter gaze before he went out and shut the door behind him, Gilbert's governing gaze ever following him.

The moment the doors were shut, Austria turned on the albino with all the hatred and anger he could muster. "What is the meaning of this? How dare you come crashing through my doors as though you have the right!"

Prussia sneered down at the other distastefully. "After what you've done you'll forgive me my manners," he drawled.

"What _I've _done?" Roderich snorted. "You're the coward that went behind my back to try and take control of the German Confederation while I was indisposed,_ Saupreiß_!"

"Please," Gilbert rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as though he were not at all worried about the Empire across from him losing control, as though he were merely in a debate about the newest composer that was coming out. "You weren't as 'indisposed' as you claim, and we both know it. While you were rushing around, fussing with other states, you left Ludwig by himself! A nation you dare to call _kinsmen_. He could have been destroyed!"

"I doubt that very much!" the pianist's normally cool gaze turned heated. "The Germans wouldn't have destroyed the boy; they were after making him more powerful!"

Again, the albino stared down his nose at his rival in a way that Austria despised very much. It made him feel inferior, him standing, leaning forward on the desk while the Prussian stood tall and square in his military uniform. Austria might have been know as the aristocrat, but Prussia had his own brand of elegance when talking and negotiating that made the Empire fell so completely mediocre in comparison. It made Roderich sick.

No one would argue that Prussia was a militaristic state, pretty well always had been, but there was a sense of brutish sophistication to him that could make any nation squirm. Those crimson eyes of his that rested in his abnormally white face truly made for a terrifying sight. He was the type of personification that didn't need demonizing as he very much looked the role by himself. He seemed to be an ancient evil, holding many secrets that he would never tell. It was all of this and more that made Prussia what he was, his bitter history, his malicious attitude in war and in life, his ridged control over himself that made Austria, and others, worry.

No one knew how old Prussia was exactly, no one near enough could remember a time without him, just as not many could remember a time without Holy Roman Empire, and the fact that Gilbert never once mentioned his age or the century he came into the world only added to his mysterious air. No one really knew how much respect should be given the kingdom, as was tradition amongst personifications, as no one was able to guess his age. His authoritative air seemed to come from years of experience, as his known history proved the many jarring changes that he had undergone to survive.

But then again, it could have all been an act, Prussia just manipulating them all. He was the sort to do it, after all. His carriage could have come from careful observation coupled with his gift for deceit, his ability to trick. That's all that was happening now, it was just Gilbert holding himself in a manner that he knew would unnerve Austria, and the power was all a bluff. There was no elegance to Prussia! He was a brute, pure and simple. There was nothing to admire about him.

But it begged the question as to why Ludwig was so willing to throw himself at the calculating kingdom? Did no one else see Prussia's façade but Roderich? …Was it really even a façade?

He was doing it again. Gilbert was just trying to mess with Roderich's mind. He had always done that sort of thing, always trying to get Austria to doubt himself or make him look the villain. It always happened, and even though Roderich's rational side told him that he had nothing to doubt, nothing to be sorry for, he couldn't stop the guilt that leaked into his heart at the thought of willfully oppressing Ludwig so that he could not be his own. He recalled all of those bruises and scratches on the boy's face…

"He was in distress," the albino's words were sharp and dripped with anger, slicing through the brunette's thoughts like ice. "You should have helped him. That's your duty as overseer of the German Confederation, isn't it?"

Roderich wasn't sure he wanted to answer that, because he knew that whatever he said could give the other German an excuse to berate and find fault with him. So instead of rising to the bait, Austria opted to stay quiet. Of course he received a wicked sneer from his rival for his seemingly cowardice decision.

Thankfully, Russia seemed to understand the growing tensions and saw his ally's distress. "And you _graciously_ offered your own service, didn't you _Prussiya?_ I'm sure the boy appreciated your complete military occupation of his lands, _da_?"

The kingdom glared at the unwelcomed sit-in coldly. "You of all people have no right to criticize me."

"Just an observation," the Slav said cheerfully. "It makes me wonder how _Lapooshka_ feels since you spit on his offer to crown your king emperor, and instead turned around to occupy his territory, completely crushing all the work he had put into his little revolution."

Fury flashed in the dangerous ruby eyes, and faster than Roderich would have thought, the Prussian was leaning forward, leaning into the Russian's face, almost spitting with rage. "You have _no_ business in German fairs, so shut the hell up!"

"No need to be so aggressive, _Prussiya_," the Russian smiled happily, apparently loving seeing the other so angry. "After all, who cares if the young one hates you? He's just a child and doesn't understand the intricacies of expanding nations."

"I have no qualms with cutting your tongue out," the albino hissed.

"And risk war?" Russia laughed. "That's the reason you tucked your tail in between your legs and fled your conquest of the German Confederation in the first place, _da_?" The large personification's laughter was booming as it bounced off the walls. "How easily you forget your place littlekingdom."

Prussia's face contorted into many different expression of hatred and ire, truly making him look like some sort of pagan god ready to strike down the impudent mortal that dared to provoke his wrath. Surprisingly though, Roderich watched as the albino swallowed his anger, and stood stiff with his hands balled up into fists at his sides. The pale face turned red with the effort, matching his eyes, as the Prussian's body shook with the effort to stay still and not lunge himself at the smiling Russian. Apparently the Prussians greatly feared the thought of war with Austria, aided by the Russians.

"And so the threat still stands if you try anything else, _Preuβen_," Roderich said, having calmed down. "You try to take over the German Confederation again, and the Austrian Empire will declare war, and with me, the Russian Empire."

Still red-faced and humiliated, the albino glowered potently at the two allies. "As I've said before," Prussia spoke after a moment, his voice shaking with anger. "—Prussia's interference in the German affairs was the help put down revolutions and preserve the sacred right of the monarchy." He turned fiery eyes upon Roderich. "I was just trying to save what Austria failed to."

The pianist's face heated up once more. "Thank you for your help and concern," he said coldly, "but your assistance is no longer required, or wanted. The German Confederation is _my _responsibility. Remember that in the future, _Preuβen_."

"I shall," the albino said curtly, nodding his head to the two empires shallowly, before turning on his heels to march out the door. "But you just keep in mind, _Österreich_," he called without looking back, "that ideas and dreams _never _die."

And with a slam of the door, that was the last Roderich knew he would see the Prussian for a long time. He just prayed that the next time he was forced to see the albino that it would not be under the pretences of war.

Turning back to his companion, Austria found that the Russian had lost his smile and was looking quite grave. "If you are finished, perhaps I should leave as well," he said, standing up. "I must be getting back home."

"Of course," the Austrian nodded. "Thank you for your support. You have been most helpful."

The other empire started down at the smaller man for a moment, his purple eyes sparkling thoughtfully. "It was little trouble," he tried to smile, but it came out looking forced. "_Dobryi vecher Avstriya_."

With one last click of the door, Roderich found himself alone, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Things were changing rapidly in his Empire, the peoples were discontent, his new monarch was different than the old, and there seemed to be more and more aggressive states around him just looking for a weakness. Unconsciously, Roderich wrapped his arms around himself and walked towards the window to look out over his lands.

Would there ever be peace for him again?

**oOoOoOo**

Ludwig waited outside the door while his brother and Austria spoke. It was truly curious to listen to the noises coming from the other side of the door. There would be yelling of words, incompressible from the boy's position, and then quiet. There would be loud _bangs_ as though someone had struck something, and then nothing. There were muffled hums of even tones when they spoke and then there was even laughter that could have only come from the Russian in the room. It made the child wonder at the events between the older personifications.

Soon enough Gilbert came storming out of Austria's office, his face flushed with anger. Seeing his brother again so soon after he had forcefully taken control of his lands and then abandoned him when Austria had threatened war, left the blonde understandable wary of his older brother. He had been horrifically shocked when his brother had come marching in with his army, declaring the German states under Prussian control only to leave again almost as quickly as they had come.

It confused Ludwig. His brother's king didn't want him, had refused the crown Ludwig had offered, so why then did he just suddenly seem to change his mind and set out to conquer what remained of the Holy Roman Empire, of what should have in all rights been Germany?

On the surface it made little sense, though deep down the child knew the real reasons for such actions. Gilbert had said his king had thought the crown offered was "hallow", but what it really meant was that the king didn't want to stoop down and pick the crown up out of the gutters and be bound to the people. Why would he want that when he could create and fashion his own crown?

Disappointed, hurt, Ludwig couldn't help the feeling of betrayal he felt against his brother. But then again, Gilbert had been left with little options. His government wanted one thing while his people wished another. The kingdom was just as trapped in this system as he was, so there was little point in becoming depressed over matters. Although the boy still could not get rid of all bitterness.

"_Gehen wir,_" the albino muttered as he strode past his brother.

Although still technically still under Austrian rule, Ludwig found that he was more interested in listen to what his brother had to say. Although angry with his brother, he still loved the albino and still greatly desired to become a true nation. If there was anything that the revolutions and their recent failures taught the boy, it was that he did not want to be alone in the world. Gilbert had told him that his harsh actions had been out of necessity, as a last resort to unify the states, and despite his anger and misgivings, Ludwig desperately wanted to believe that that had been the case.

So, the boy followed his brother out, listening to Prussia more than his overseer Austria, because of a desperate hope and the love he held for the older German, even if the small, nagging voice in the back of his head told him that he should be furious and not trust the Prussian.

"I assume that your talk with _Österreich _didn't go well," Ludwig commented dryly.

To this, Gilbert snorted. "West, your powers of observation are dizzying."

The blonde smirked lightly. "What did they say?"

"Same thing they always say," the albino growled. "They threatened war again if I didn't back off."

The two fell into a thoughtful sort of silence. "What are you going to do then?" the boy asked.

Gilbert stopped his neck-breaking pace suddenly, catching the younger by surprise, and stared down at his little brother. "What can I do?" His voice sounded almost pleading, as though he wished for Ludwig to actually have a plan of his own to initiate. "Austria's forbidden me to meddle in the affairs of the German Confederation or else he and that _hund_ he keeps with him now will declare war upon me."

"Will you?" the boy asked. It was really a rather stupid question, one that anyone could see the obvious answer to. After all, who in their right mind would risk getting involved in a war with both Austria and Russia? But he had to ask, hoping that maybe his brother would stay with him. "Will you stay out of my affairs?"

It came as a great relief to the boy when his older brother snorted again. "Hell no! Austria's not even a real German, he shouldn't have _ever _gotten a say in the affairs of our people at all!"

The blonde's heart warmed at hearing his brother refer to their peoples as one. It made him believe that despite their crushing failures in the revolution, that maybe there was still a real chance of becoming an empire. Together. Prussia along with all of the German states. It was a wonderful idea.

"Then what are we going to do?" Ludwig asked, trying to hide the small smile that came unwittingly to his lips.

"I'm going to have to concede to his wishes for the time being, lest he send that Slavic nightmare after me." Gilbert looked thoughtful. "But times are changing, West, and our people aren't happy with this outcome. Austria thinks that just because he has 'control' over you again means that things will go back to being how they were. But he's dead wrong," his red eyes hardened with a steely glint.

"Ideas are powerful things, West, no everyone seems to remember that nowadays," the albino lectured. "Personifications are by nature ideas first and foremost. It's because of the human conceptions of us as living, breathing things that we exist. That's how the first personifications came to be, made purely by the thoughts of men. We're more complex beings now, but we are still ideas. Humans' belief in us controls whether we live or fade away."

"That's what happened to all of the personifications of the German states, wasn't it?" Ludwig asked. "They faded away gradually as the Germans saw themselves more as one people."

"_Ja_," Gilbert nodded in approval.

Ludwig frowned in confusion. "So they all just started to fade away until only the Holy Roman Empire was left? And then when the people lost faith in him and dissolved him, they created me? To be the one, solid personification they could all believe in?"

It was not very often that Ludwig saw his brother looking so sad, so at odds with himself, but he saw it then, even as the albino tried to smile. "_Ja_, I guess that's right," he said quietly.

Gilbert always got strangely quiet and reserved whenever the Holy Roman Empire was brought up. Roderich too. They never talked about the former German power much, and when he was mentioned, it was only in passing. Several times Ludwig had tried to talk about his predecessor, tried to get information about him out of his brother and Roderich, but neither said anything and would usually change the subject.

But now Gilbert was standing there confirming an idea that the blonde had been harboring for quite some time. He was happy to finally get some straight answers; even if he had had to think of something specific enough his brother couldn't dance around. Either way it made him feel good about himself that he'd been able to figure this all out. Maybe that's why Gilbert never just told him, he'd wanted Ludwig to figure it out.

Just as they began walking again, a voice called out. The brothers turned to see a rather striking looking man with a large mustache, wearing fine clothes and a grim expression. "_Preuβen_," the man greeted respectfully. The stranger then turned hard eyes onto the boy. "And you must be _Deutscher Bund_." He bowed slightly.

"_Ja_," Gilbert came in. "West, this is Otto von Bismarck, an adviser to my king. _Herr _Bismarck, this is my brother, _Deutscher Bund_."

The Prussian noble stared down at the tiny child, never once changing his features. "That name doesn't suit you, boy," his voice was firm and held traces of disgust.

Ludwig wasn't sure how to respond to that, but he didn't have to worry, because his brother came in to his defense. "We won't have to worry about that too much longer," Prussia said, a wicked smile creeping onto his face.

The blonde was about to scold his brother for speaking like that to someone so close to his king, afraid that his brother would get reprimanded by the stern looking man. But to his surprise, Bismarck nodded seriously in agreement. "Indeed not if things go our way. Though we shouldn't even have to worry about it now if those damned Austrians just kept their noses in their own business and got out of _German_ matters."

Thus far Ludwig had only been around humans that were from the German states, those that wanted a new country, to merge with Prussia, but none of them talked about the revolution much anymore, too ashamed of the outcome. To hear this Prussian, one of his brother's own, talk this way sent blooms anticipation in Ludwig's chest, like he had felt when sitting down to write the new constitution. Knowing that there were still others out that that wanted unification as adamantly as he and Gilbert did made the boy smile.

"If they had stayed the hell out," the man went on, "you might actually _be _a Germany already. Damn _Schwein_ think they own the whole damn expanse of Europe."

"We just need to think of a way to show the German peoples that Prussia is who they should look to," Gilbert muttered pensively.

Was he _in _on the conspiracy here? The thought thrilled the boy. Thus far it felt like everyone had always sheltered him from any real talk of politics, and when decisions were to be made, he was told to go to his room or go outside to "play". It had become increasingly irritating when he just wanted to voice his own opinion, like at the Congress of Vienna. No one had given him a chance to voice his own peoples' voice, and now it seemed that he had finally gained the privilege to govern himself.

The three of them stood in silence a moment, the two Prussians deep in thought, each plotting, while Ludwig found himself unable to do anything other than just smile softly, please with the world and life in general for the first time in years. It was a nice feeling to know that he had a true ally in his brother. All bitterness was forgotten for the moment, and the child allowed himself to bask in the glory of peace and hopefulness.

"We should go now, _Herr Preuβen_," Bismarck remarked after a moment.

"Very well," the albino nodded. "Do you have a way back to your house, West?"

"_Ja_," the boy nodded quickly. "I think they're waiting for me."

"Then I suppose that I'm off with _Herr _Bismarck then," Gilbert said, though he looked as though his mind were elsewhere.

As the two Prussians walked away, Ludwig couldn't help be watch them go. They both looked so regal, so poised and confident, Gilbert in his military dress while Bismarck was dressed in his finest. That was what the younger nation wanted to be like, wanted his people to be like. He wanted to be strong and noble, wanted the world to respect him and know him as a great power. He wanted so very much to be like Prussia.

"For what it's worth," Ludwig called out before he could stop himself. His brother and Bismarck looked back at him questioning. "— nationalism itself isn't a bad thing," he finished. "Rally the Germans and they'll come to you."

Bismarck's eyes widened slightly, as though he had been struck with a great thought, but then returned to normal quickly, though there was an intense sparkle in them, a mischievousness that the boy did not quite understand. "That, boy," the human said slowly, "is something that I believe should be seriously considered. _Guten Tag_."

The blonde nodded before the human turned to stalk off while Gilbert gave him a huge grin before following after his king's man. As he watched them go, it was in that instant that Ludwig decided that he very much liked Otto von Bismarck.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Behold, all of my history reading for this semester coming together to help me write this chapter! :D Thanks Dr. S for being awesome and giving me fodder for my fanfiction addiction. :P

**History: **(Where to begin!) After King Friedrich Wilhelm IV decided that he didn't want to rule the German states by coming into existence as a revolutionary state, he decided he still very much wanted to make a Germany, so instead of taking them up on their offer, he decided to try and get a Germany on his own term, one that _he _created. So, with the excuse of putting down the revolutions, he sent his troops all across the German states to oppress the revolutions and ended up occupying them, getting very close to declaring them his.

**Last chapter Roderich was freaking out because he felt like he had no help, that wasn't entirely accurate, but I wanted to show that nations have freak outs. Russia proved as a very useful ally to Austria during this time. That's because Tsar Nicholas I was _deathly _afraid that if he didn't do something to stop this, revolution would soon spread to Russia as well, and because Russia was a multi-ethnic nation like Austria, he just knew that without help he would never be able to save the Russian Empire. So to stop it before it came, the Tsar sent troops to aide Austria to preserve the idea conservatism and protect the rights of monarchs.

Austria, on the other hand, came out EXTREMELY well after the revolutions thanks to Russia. They lost absolutely nothing in terms of land and things, on the surface, went back to the way they were. During the revolutions, Emperor Ferdinand abdicated the throne and was replaced by King Franz Joseph came into power and put all of his energy into saving the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and he did it very well. So when the revolutions were put to rest and Empire had been saved, Austria found the Prussians occupying their land and threatened to wage war with them should they refuse to leave. The Prussians thought about it, but when Russia sided with Austria and claimed that they, too, would go to war, the Prussians relented and left the land, the vision of Germany so very close, but not obtained.

***This embarrassed the Prussians terribly and spark a rekindling of hatred between the Austrians and Prussians. Old rivalries returned and the fight was on again for the German states. The German states themselves were confused with what to think, having just had revoliution, to almost getting an empire, to getting occupied, then having their occupiers gone, was a real wake up call, leaving many to think something along the lines of, "What the heck just happened?"

**Otto von Bismarck, for those of you who don't know, was an awesome fellow. ;) Remember Gebhard von Blücher? Bismarck's like him in that he's totally awesome! As a young man, he loved to drink and cause trouble, but as he got older, he had a religious conversion and was a devout Lutheran. He then began working for the king and was a firm conservative, believing in the monarchy and the traditional government. He detested the fact that the revolutions failed, though he hated the idea of revolutions. He'd wanted a united Germany, but he didn't like the fact that it would have been created through revolutions. **HE **was one of the advisors that told the king not to accept the German's crown that that he should create one for himself, through conquest! More will be explained about him later, but just keep in mind that the other German states really adore him.

**Russian Reminders: **_Dobryi vecher Avstriya_: Добрый вечер Австрия: Good evening Austria. _Lapooshka-_ Лапушка- little paw (Russian endearment)

***Still using DoktorZeirmit's awesome translations. ^^ Thanks again!

**German Reminder: **_Saupreiß- _Sow-Prussian ( a very negative term Austrians (and Bavarians I believe) called the Prussians.) _Deutscher Bund- _German Confederation. _Gehen wir-_ Let's go.

***AND!... I really should give a shout out to my German teacher Rinael~ Thanks for being patient with me and listening to my funny accented German!

'**Nother Author's Note: **Please drop me a review on your way out, if you'd be so kind. ^^ This fanfic author works pretty hard to bring you a good story and historical facts that are probably never explained to you very well in class. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks everyone who is reading, following, fav-ing this! And thanks everyone for the kind reviews!

Happy (slightly late) German Unification Day! Fröhliche Tag der Deutschen Einheit!


	27. Chapter 24: Part 1: The Time of Blood

**Chapter Twenty-Four: **

**Part One: The Time of Blood and Iron**

**1858-1863**

After Roderich and Gilbert's falling out with one another, things got increasingly interesting for Ludwig. He watched as his brother and cousin couldn't stand to even be in the same room with one another, and both seemed set on coming over to his house to check up on him at all hours of the day. It had been decided that Ludwig was not to go over to either of their houses, lest some sort of jealousy war erupted between the two great German powers. So instead, Austria and Prussia made it a requirement to go see the boy themselves in his own home, which was neutral ground.

Jean, poor soul, tried staying away from the Germans as much as possible, and eventually made a home for himself in his own lands. Belgium watched after him more nowadays than Ludwig, but the blonde still had Lilie to keep him company. The children, however, were not as lucky as Luxemburg and were more securely bound to the German Confederation, meaning they were trapped with Austrian guidance and Prussian intervention.

Ludwig thought of Lilie as something of a sister to him, and as he was growing faster than she was, he soon found that he was quite protective of her. He worked very hard to make sure that she was taken care and away from the arguments of his brother and Austria. The two had known each other since 1815, and had spent years in each other's company. But sadly, as Austria and Prussia fought, they did not keep their fights to themselves.

Lilie's own Liechtenstein had once been an Austrian kingdom, and she was still very tightly bound to Austria himself. She still went to Vienna often to see Roderich and Elisabeta and all of the other territories that Austria ruled, leaving Ludwig alone. That was usually when Gilbert came over to see him and keep him company, even though he technically wasn't supposed to be there while Lilie was away. Ludwig adored the albino for it, though. There were times when the boy felt so very lonely.

And so it ended up being that Lilie was fonder of Austria than she was of Prussia, and Ludwig was caught in between desperately longing to go with his brother and remaining where he was out of loyalty to Roderich. But the longer time stretched on, the more Ludwig liked the idea of having a united Germany with a Prussian king at the head, especially with Gilbert's own Otto von Bismarck coming around every so often to "check up" on the young nation.

Time stretched on and tensions between the two great German nations continued as well as the tensions between Ludwig and Lilie. The children, however, recognized their biases for one side or another, and since Ludwig was still torn between what he wanted to do and what he really should do, it caused the two little blondes to remain silent over the issues at hand. They did not speak politics outside of Confederation business if they could help it, and tried to never say anything negative about either Roderich or Gilbert, knowing that they could likely upset the other. It was just unfortunate that the two adults could not behave in such a cordial manner.

The cold treatment between Austria and Prussia soon came to a slowing halt when Gilbert found himself in a crisis. Ludwig had been eating with his brother one evening when Lilie was away, when a messenger from Prussia had come riding in, bearing an important message: King Friedrich Wilhelm IV had fallen ill. Gilbert had left almost immediately to get back to see if there was anything he could do.

The boy had stood up and ran after his brother then, concerned over what would happen to the older nation, but the albino had only laughed. "Don't you worry about anything, West," he winked one red eye. "I'm awesome, remember? I'll go figure this all out." And so, Gilbert had gone.

News spread quickly that the King of Prussia was unwell, insane even. Instead of Gilbert coming to check up on him, Ludwig found that his brother had sent Otto von Bismarck more often than not. The ambassador unnerved the child at times, but the boy found that he respected, if not liked, the human. There was something about Bismarck that demanded admiration. But soon, the ambassador too stopped coming around as the situation in Prussia worsened after the king finally died.

Ludwig was with Austria when word leaked out that the Prussia parliament was in a massive dispute over what they should do with their army. The military and parliament were at odds with each other, to the point when the government was nearly completely crippled.

"Serves the twat right," Roderich had snorted. "Maybe now he won't think himself so great."

It seemed the situation was bad enough that there were rumors that Prussia might just collapse. Parliament stopped working almost and refused to do anything until the army situation was resolved, leaving Ludwig to sit up at night, worrying over his brother. Gilbert wouldn't collapse; he couldn't! The older German was smart and clever and seemed so indestructible! Napoleon hadn't been able to crush the Prussians completely, so why was it that Gilbert's own government seemed to be trying so hard to ruin their own kingdom?

Months passed by without word or letters, and Ludwig was seriously considering breaking all the rules and restrictions he was bound to obey, and instead go to Prussia and find Gilbert himself, when one day, the albino showed up on his doorstep.

"Gilbert!" Ludwig cried. "You're okay!"

The older nation laughed, smiling brightly. He looked tired and tattered, but he seemed to be in one piece. "Of course I am!" he cackled again. It was breathy and sounded worn and sickly, grating on the child's ears. "Didn't I tell you, West? I'm awesome!"

The crushing isolation that had slowly been taking hold of the child melted as he sat and talked to his beloved older brother. But despite his loneliness being quelled, his worry did not. The albino was loud and talkative as they sat drinking tea together, laughing and being rather obnoxious as always, and yet Ludwig knew his brother was unwell. The ruby eyes that could strike fear into human and nation's hearts were dull, and his wicked smile was no longer present, leaving only a pained baring of teeth in its place. The proud posture was lax, as though the kingdom didn't have the energy to hold himself up well. And of course the conversation, though deceivingly animated, lacked in easiness, and it pained to boy to hear the weariness underneath the words.

His brother was very much alive, but Gilbert was not "okay." The Kingdom of Prussia was still very much suffering from the pointless debate in parliament, and while Ludwig had heard that Bismarck had taken things into his own hands to help insure the survival of the peoples of Prussia, that did not mean that _Gilbert _was well. The government was the head of a nation, the source of a nation's power and strength. If the government was divided, the personifications suffered.

Gilbert might have wanted his brother not to worry about him, not to worry about anything anymore, but that's all Ludwig found he _could _do. His brother was sick, and Europe, despite the general peace lately, was far from being a quiet place to live. The Austro-Hungarian Empire was still out there, and so was the Russian Empire. Those two were not Prussia's friends, and the young confederation prayed that the two large empires would not decide to move in on a sickly looking kingdom anytime soon.

Little did Ludwig know that he should have been worrying less about the possibility of his brother being invaded and started thinking more about himself.

**oOoOoOo**

**1864**

If there was one thing that Gilbert thought was strange, possibly even stranger than human nature, was time. It seemed to him that everything was well one moment, the next things were very bad. One moment a nation was an ally, the next, you were trying to kill each other. There were days when he was afraid to turn his head or look away because he just knew that when he looked back, everything would be different, everyone he had just gotten used to dead.

Yes, time was a strange thing, a cruel inevitability. No matter how he might plead to go back to a different time, a simpler time, a time that was filled with the presence of a certain individual or other, time would not relent, forcing the personification to continue trekking forward, only able to look back sadly, unable to do anything about it. For no matter how great a person was, no one could master time.

As he sat and listened to the debates going on around him, Gilbert decided that he wished he was back in a time when dates and history and vast empires didn't really exist. A time when his father was still alive, still ruling the land from the Rhine to his own land that was now Prussia, from Denmark down to the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Those had been simpler times, good times. Gilbert had never really had to worry back then, knowing that his Vater and other cousins would fight Rome and he could continue to dwell and grow in the north.

Now, unfortunately, times were complicated. His parliament, even after two years of refusing to do _anything, _were still going at it about his military! It was all so pointless and it really showed a great deal of weakness that Gilbert despised. He just thanked God in all of His mercy that Bismarck was on his side.

Looking over at the Chancellor, Gilbert smiled lightly. While it was no secret that Bismarck had, in effect, taken control of Prussia and was spending the national money as he saw fit, Gilbert had to admire the man's nerve, and the fact that no one stopped the Chancellor, who seemed to be getting a little too much power lately. But Bismarck was a good man, reminding Gilbert of Old Fritz in a way. Bismarck spent the money, yes, but he used it to keep the kingdom growing and the people fed.

That was more than Gilbert could say for his new king, Wilhelm. While Bismarck was working to recover the Prussian government, Wilhelm seemed to be sitting in the background, not doing a damn thing. It frustrated the nation, who was used to having strong leadership in the form of the monarchs. But while Bismarck was looking for ways to recover and expand the nation, Wilhelm did little. While Gilbert respected his new king on the grounds of divine right and traditions, he was reluctant to praise the fairly quiet figure.

It was shaping up to be another boring meeting when a messenger came in to deliver an urgent telegram. Intrigued, the albino sat up. Bismarck and the nation looked over at the messenger before the king took it with a nod.

Prussia trained his eyes on the human and became uneasy when the man's eyes widened. "What is it, your highness?" Bismarck spoke up first.

The king looked over at the chancellor, dread coloring his features. "Apparently Denmark has attacked the German Confederation."

"WHAT?" Gilbert leapt up out of his seat.

The king looked over at his nation questioningly while Bismarck took the telegram and read it over carefully, his face masked in concentration. "Seems that Danish decided that they needed more territory. They've annexed Schleswig and Holstein."

"That bastard!" Gilbert roared. "We have to do something!"

"Do we?" Wilhelm questioned, looking between his nation and its chancellor. "I mean, we still have our own problems here that we need to deal with. Is it such a good idea to get into another conflict?"

Before the albino could speak, begin to explain all the reasons they should go protect his little brother from the encroaching northern nation, Bismarck beat him to it. "Your highness," the human began, his voice sounding controlled, though the personification could tell that there was something else in it… happiness? "The Danish have broken their treaty. It's our duty to put them back in their place."

"I don't know, Bismarck," Wilhelm shook his head. "Technically it's the Austrians that should do something before us."

"And think of how much more _you'll _be revered should you save the Germans and not Austria?" the chancellor smirked. "Those lazy Austrians were slow to help during the revolutions, left the Germans alone, but your brother went and decided to help the poor people. And now you, his beloved little brother, will go and help them again against their aggressive neighbor."

Wilhelm's eyes narrowed. "I don't want to control the German states," he said flatly. "I have not my families ambitions in that."

"Don't you?" Gilbert spoke up, keeping his voice low, almost purring. "Think of how good it would look, how much the Austrians would just _hate _it if Prussia once again saved the Germans? Think of all the benefits we could gain from this."

"This situation is just what we need, my lord," Bismarck came back in. "Parliament will have to cease their pointless chatter, and the issue of the military will be moot seeing as we'll _need _it now. Our crisis will be over, your highness, and we'll have gained the adoration of the Germans forever."

"What if we lose?" Wilhelm looked between the two predators worriedly. "What then?"

"Have you no faith in me, my lord?" Prussia said, still eyeing the man like a tiger would its prey. "The Danish _must _be punished and shown their proper place. I cannot abandon the Germans."

"And why is that?" Wilhelm asked, frowning up at the nation, taking quick glances at the chancellor, as though fearing the other would strike while the nation spoke.

Without thinking, without really knowing why he was saying this, or what gave him the right, Gilbert responded, "Because they should have been mine."

The room settled and all sound ceased. Prussia's words ran through the room and in the ears of the humans, proud and very clear. _They should have been mine. _The declaration also reverberated back in Gilbert's chest as well, and his mind began seeking out ways to decipher the meaning of those five simple words.

The nation stood standing, stone still, frozen in place. He hadn't realized he'd even said anything until his breathing became settled once more and he saw the shock on Wilhelm's face. The bitterness of the statement took the albino by surprise, but now that his dearest wish was out in the open, it left him feeling cold and strangely empty. Those five little words repeated themselves over and over again, and silently, the personification lowered his eyes, trying to get the picture of his little brother out of his head. _He should have been mine_.

"And they will be."

"Huh?" Gilbert looked up and met the eyes of the chancellor. Bismarck looked deathly serious, his eyes unflinching, full of confidence.

"They _will _be yours, _Preuβen_," the human repeated. "They've always _been _yours, but now's the time that we make the world remember that too."

The chancellor and his nation turned and looked over at the king, who sat silently watching the two dominate personalities. The new king sighed before looking away for a moment, as if not wanting to even know about the arrangement. "Fine. Do what you will, but if you ruin this country, Bismarck—"

"You have nothing to fear, my lord, but everything to gain," Bismarck bowed respectfully, a smirk slipping onto his face. "Come _Herr Preuβen_, we have plans to make.

**oOoOoOo**

Ludwig stood at the boarder of Denmark and the German Confederation, waiting for the other personification to arrive. His arm had been badly hurt when the other nation had taken control of his northern most territory, and frankly it scared the boy. He was still fairly young for all of this conquering and taking over of other nations. He wasn't use to having people take land away from him like this. Well, that was not wholly correct, seeing as Britain had kept a post in Hanover for a while, and Gilbert had taken control of a vast amount of territory in the north after Napoleon…but that was different somehow. Ludwig had never physically hurt when his brother had been granted control over patches of the north and along the Rhine. Perhaps it was due to the fact that Denmark was trying to gain land by force?

The little blonde snapped out of his thoughts when he saw the tall Nordic country making his way over, his old battle axe swung over his shoulder, looking very much the part of the Vikings he was derived from. Although he was still young, Ludwig understood the complexities of how to handle business. He had always been good with this sort of thing, almost like he'd done it a million times before, but he was still nervous and a bit scared. After all, he had no real military might now, and he had to depend greatly upon others for help. He just hoped that Austria would come soon and straighten all of this mess out.

"Good day to you!" Denmark called, smiling wickedly. "A pleasant day it is!"

The boy frowned lightly. "_Guten Tag_."

"And why have you called me down here today, little man?" the other leaned on his axe for support. "You formally going to give up Schleswig and Holstein now? Or wait!" the Nordic nation began laughing. "You're going to try and fight me for it?"

The loud, boisterous laughter stained the child's cheeks pink. He didn't like being laughed at, and he certainly didn't want to have to admit that he couldn't really do anything at the moment. How humiliating would it be for him to have to make idle threats for the time being, and tell the other all about what Austria would do if Denmark didn't leave? It was almost too much shame and humiliation for the boy to bear.

"He might not be able to, but _I'm _certainly interested."

Denmark and the German Confederation turned quickly to see Prussia strutting over to the two, smiling that impious smile of his, while looking completely at ease, as though he had decided to just take a stroll around the north.

Seeing the eastern kingdom left the Nordic state scowling. "What are _you _doing here, _Preussen_?" Denmark asked darkly.

"Heard some interesting stuff's been happening lately," the albino's smile turned dark. "Thought I should check up on West here, see if anyone's been bothering him lately."

"He's fine," the older blonde snapped. "Now, you can be on your way. This has nothing to do with you."

Ludwig's eyes widened as he looked up at his brother, whose face turned deadly serious. "Anything that has to do with him involves me, _Dänemark_."

"Only Austria has real say in the affairs of the German Confederation," the Nord snapped, unafraid.

"If you try _anything, Dänemark_, you are a fool," the albino's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Anything involving the Germans is _my _personal concern."

The boy watched as the two great kingdoms glared at each other for a long moment. The tension was almost too much for Ludwig to endure, but he managed to stand still and not move around too much. Without realizing it, the boy found that through the course of the exchange, he had moved over to his brother's size, nearly hiding behind Gilbert's leg, like he was some sort of pathetic little child. He scowled at the thought, wondering if Gilbert was ashamed of him for acting this way.

As thick as the tensions were, somehow, Gilbert started to laugh, he laughed long and hard, right in the face of the expansionary nation. "How bleak our negotiations are!"

Surprisingly— at least for Ludwig— Denmark also began laughing. The boy knew that his brother possessed a…strange sense of humor, but as far as watching Denmark, Ludwig had to believe that the other was crazy. Why were they laughing? This was _not _funny! He stood a chance of losing territory, and his big brother was _laughing _with the enemy!

"Gilbert," Ludwig whispered up to the other, unable to keep the frown from off his face.

And just as abruptly as the laughing began, it ended. The older nations looked each other up and down for a moment before Prussia smirked that knowing smirk of his. "I think we're done here," he red eyes sparkled. "Expect to see me again _very _soon, _Dänemark_. I'll be bring along a friend."

The albino turned and began walking away, leaving Denmark to frown after him. Ludwig, not sure what exactly had transpired between the two older states, wondered what he should do, and looked between the retreating form of his brother and the still frowning northern nation. He turned to follow his brother back east, when the Nordic nation stopped him. "I would be careful of him, little man."

The boy looked back and scowled at the nation that had decided to attack him. "Why's that?" he snapped.

Who did this kingdom think he was to tell Ludwig what to do? What was Denmark thinking, warning Ludwig about his own brother? Why was it that _everyone _told him to be careful of Gilbert? Thus far, Gilbert had been the only one to actually _care _about him. It was Gilbert that had taken him in when he was lost and couldn't remember anything, called him brother and gave him a name. Gilbert was a good man! Why was it that Ludwig seemed to be the only one who saw that?

The tall nation looked down at the boy, his eyes dark. "Let's just say that he's…made a reputation for himself over the years. If you think he's helping you for nothing more than the fact that he likes you, get real, kid. Prussia only fights when he's got something to gain."

"That's not true!" Ludwig growled. "He's helped me lots of times!"

"When there was nothing to be gained on his end?" the other laughed. "I don't think so. Come on, use your brain, kid. He's helping you so that he can get a bigger chunk of your land."

"N-no he's not," the boy denied, though there was a slightly sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thought back to all of the conflicts both her and his brother had gone through thus far.

"You're a smart one, so use that head of yours!" Denmark shook his head. "You're land's basically been a free-for-all since the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire. _Preussen's _been helping you because he wants your land. Think back just sixteen years ago." Ludwig paled. "What happened? He and his king couldn't accept your offer of making them emperor because— how did he put it— 'It'd be like stooping down and picking the crown up out of the gutter'?"

"Be quiet," the child mumbled, his face heating up with shame and anger.

"And then, instead of graciously taking what you offered," the other went on, as though he hadn't heard the boy, "he rejected you before turning around to occupy your land. That doesn't sound like someone that 'helps', kid, that sounds like someone who's out for themselves," Denmark crossed his arms.

"_Bruder _told me that his king just didn't want to be crowned by a revolutionary state," Ludwig argued, trying desperately to clear his brother's name, to say anything that would make the accusations against his brother false, to quiet his own misgivings.

"Just as I said," the older blonde nodded, his eyes lighting up with something foul. "He didn't want _you _to crown him. Do you get it yet, kid? _Preussen _wanted your _land_, not you. By taking over your territory by force, he could then take over you. He could _dissolve _you. Understand? He was out to get rid of you."

The boy's heart froze and he found he couldn't move. That wasn't true, Gilbert would _never _do that! …would he? No, of course he wouldn't! Gilbert had told him how many times how much he wanted to live with him, to care for him. But was it all some sort of sick joke? After all, there were instances that the boy had seen where _Prussia's _ideas and beliefs conflicted with _Gilbert's_. Maybe Denmark was right, maybe Gilbert might want to help, but Prussia just wanted to kill him, take his land. The thought sent a terrifying thrill down the boy's spine.

"I can see you need some time to mull this over, kid," the older nation said, swinging his axe back over his shoulder. "This isn't personal on my part, kid, this is just business. I'm entitled to Holstein and Schleswig. It's no different, really, then when your dear _Bruder_," he mocked, "got a hold of all this territory across your northern half and along the Rhine."

"I-it's different," the child defended weakly.

Denmark laughed in the boy's face. "How?" he sneered. "You better learn to toughen up, kid, learn to watch out for yourself and yourself only. That's the nature of nations. If you don't watch your back, someone else will be conquering it. It's actually pretty sad you didn't realize Prussia's intentions before all this mess."

"_Bruder _is not trying to take over me! He just wants to help me become my own proper country!" Ludwig yelled, losing his temper at last.

Again, the other nation laughed in his face, shaming the boy. "You really are naïve, aren't you?" he shook his head. "Well, good luck with the future, kid. You better believe that you'll see me again," he winked before he walked away.

The blonde stood still and watched his enemy strut away. Once the other was out of sight, the child looked in the direction his brother had gone several minutes before. Ludwig was growing more and more confused as time was running on.

Was Gilbert really a threat like Denmark, and even Austria, always told him the albino was? But that couldn't be, not when Ludwig knew in his heart that his brother was not like that. Gilbert's brief occupation of the confederation had been much, much different than this new fight with Denmark. When Prussian soldiers had come through the heartland, Ludwig had not been scared; he had not been worried about them, not much, anyway. Seeing the Prussian blue had actually given the child some hope. So why then did everyone else believe that his brother had deceitful intentions?

Shaking his head from the negative thoughts, the German Confederation turned and began walking south, away from Denmark, away from Prussia and away from everyone else that could confuse him further. He needed time to think. He needed to decide who was his friend and who was his enemy.

**oOoOoOo**

Austria sat still on his horse watching as the last of his troops marched from Denmark. The war, if it could have been called such as it was so short, had been little more than he and Prussia marching into Denmark and taking back the territories the Nord had tried to annex. It had been a lot of fuss over something so small, as far as the pianist was concerned, but it was not without benefit.

The southern kingdom glanced at his companion covertly from the side, trying to identify what the albino was thinking. It was quite clear that the little kingdom was quite pleased with himself, after all, who wouldn't be? Although Roderich was loathed to say it, the Prussian troops really were swift and effective operatives. Almost as soon as news reached him that Denmark had taken territory from the German Confederation, Prussian were ready to march, awaiting the Austrians to join. It was impressive really, but it made the Austrian suspicious.

"Have you seen your brother since the incident?" Roderich spoke up after a moment.

"_Ja_, just twice before. Once right after Denmark had struck, and the second right before we did," the albino explained. "Why? Did you?"

"Only once," Austria answered. "I plan on riding to his home to see him even now."

"I'll go with you," Prussia replied smoothly. "It's been awhile since we've both been with him. Maybe we should take the time to catch up."

That smirk, that glint in those abnormal red eyes, they weren't right. Gilbert was up to something. Roderich didn't know or understand what it could possibly be at the moment, but he knew that the other German had something up his sleeve. What could Prussia possibly get out of spending time together with him and Ludwig?

"How is your parliament situation, _Preuβen_," Roderich sneered. "Get everything back in order, have you?"

While the kingdom might have been loud, rude even, he was not stupid. He caught the barb better than Roderich could have hope, and the southern empire could see the anger in those blood-red eyes, but the albino, surprisingly, did not rise to the bait. "Fine," he nodded, eyes burning. "Doing just fine now thanks to Chancellor Bismarck. And what of you, _Österreich_? How are things with your wife? Is she finally cooperating with you or did you just bounder her and lock her in a closet until she sees the error of her ways?"

Roderich's whole face exploded in crimson, and his hands started shaking with anger. It took every ounce of will power he had not to lunge at the albino. "We've been doing fine, _danke_," he ground out, despising the smirk the other nation wore.

"_Gut. Gut_," Prussia nodded, not bothering to look at the seething nation beside him. "Glad to hear that your empire is quieting down."

"And why would you be?" Austria turned and glared at the other, amethyst eyes blazing with dislike. "Let us be frank, _Preuβen, _you like me no better than I like you, so drop these disgustingly false niceties. We both know that you'd like it no better than for my empire to crumble."

"Not so," the older nation turned to regard the still fuming empire. "While it would bring a good laugh if you and your fellow naves did break apart, that's not what I'd like better than anything else."

"And what," Roderich growled, "could you possibly like better than to see me dismantled?"

The albino's face turned deadly serious as he looked at the brunette with solemn eyes. "I'd like more than anything else in the world to see you get the hell out of the German Confederation," Gilbert responded bluntly. "You are no German."

"Control over that land was promised to me, Prussia," Austria scowled. "Holy Rome handed over power to me long before you had even become worth mentioning in Europe. I _saved _him!"

"And then you tried to kill him."

Roderich's eyes widen, and his heart stopped. No matter what happened in life, no matter how much time passed between 1806 and the present, the guilt of what his government had done to the Holy Roman Empire weighed heavily upon the brunette's heart. And while Ludwig did not seem to remember his past, or place any blame upon him, God sent Austria punishment in form of Prussia, so that he might never forget his most grievous sin.

"I should be going now." Roderich was snapped out of his musings, and he turned to look at the other.

"I thought you were going to see your brother with me," Austria managed to get out, hoping that his voice had sounded steady.

"I am," Gilbert nodded. "But I'll ride ahead. I just remembered that I can't stomach your company for too long."

Roderich sneered. "Then by all means, go. I have no desire to sit with you either."

The albino laughed an iniquitous kind of laugh that made the other nation shiver with dread. "I'll see you again soon, _Österreich,_" he said mysteriously before he rode off.

And just like that, Prussia was gone before Austria had a chance to say anything else. As the albino went, Roderich found that he had a bad feeling about the future. There was no telling what the small kingdom would do now that he had tasted blood once more.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yay! The first war that led to the unification of the German states to make the German Empire, or the Second Reich. ^^

**History: **Bismarck was the Prussian ambassador to the German Confederation from 1851-1861. However, this happy little arrangement went out the door and things were in a downward spiral when, in 1858 King Friedrich Wilhelm went insane. While this might not seem important, it had DRASTIC consequences later on. In 1860, the King and parliament got into a huge dispute over the military, one side wanting to have it decrease, the other wanting to leave it be. The king died in 1861 and his younger brother, Wilhelm, took the throne. In 1862, parliament refused to do ANYTHING until the military issues was taken care of, which caused a national crisis.

While things looked bleak, however, an army officer persuaded Wilhelm to declare Bismarck Chancellor in 1862. From there, Bismarck started his famous conquest to create the German Empire. First and foremost, the Chancellor basically took over the government in Prussia and spent all of the national money in order to keep the people fed and everything running. Keep in mind, what he was doing was completely **unconstitutional** and he was doing this **illegally** for four years.

And then the Danish War of 1864 occurred. This was actually quite a weird, short little affair that was fought between the Danish army and the Austro-Prussian armies. Basically, after King Frederick VII of Denmark (…Fredrick was apparently a popular name amongst European nobility…) died in late 1863and Demark and the Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein got in a dispute, which resulted in Denmark annexing these two German territories. This sparked Prussian and Austria intervention.

Now, you might be asking, "Why is this little conflict important for Prussia and Germany when the German Confederation is under Austrian control?" Well, I'll tell you, because Bismarck had been the ambassador to the German confederation, and he was now Chancellor of Prussia, he _knew _the German people and _knew _what they wanted just as well as he knew what his own people wanted. He used this conflict to showoff Prussian power and might to the German states. And since they _won_, Prussia looked _extremely _awesome to the Germans, since Bismarck went around and basically saying, "Hey everyone, look at _us!_ Aren't we _awesome?_ Germans really are the best, _aren't we_?"

So yeah, this is the start of Bismarck manipulating nationalism into basically showing the Germans how awesome _Germans_— basically Germans and Prussian, **NOT** Austrians— really are. And because of this, the Austrians become increasingly insecure of the Prussians. Next chapter you'll see the explosion of distrust and hatred between Prussia and Austria.

**Language: **So you might be wondering why I spelled "Prussia" like _Preussen _and _Preuβen_. The first is the Danish spelling, the second the German. You really outta know the rest.

**Author's Note:** Hope you liked it! If you don't understand some of the history or have any other questions, please don't hesitate to ask me. I'd be happy to explain anything. And if any of you have been wondering where I'm getting my facts, I've been getting them from history books, such as my "Big Book O'Prussia" (not the official title, of course) and a lot from my classes in college. So my sources are pretty solid. ^^

Please drop me a review if you liked anything in this chapter. THANKS! :)


	28. Chapter 24: Part 2: The Bitter Fight

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

**Part Two: The Bitter Fight of Blood and Iron**

**1865**

The two Italians sat across from the Prussian personification warily, each wondering why the Germanic kingdom was there with them. The brothers knew that they should not even be entertaining the Prussian guest, knowing that Austria would be furious with them if he found out. Yet here was Prussia, sitting calming, a smirk resting dangerously on his lips. It was at times like these that Romano wondered what life was going to thrust upon him next. He wondered why he could not just live in peace with his brother, with everyone just leaving him alone.

"You can state your business now," the older Italian said gruffly, narrowing his eyes at the albino. With a reputation like Prussia's, Romano was understandably wary. Germans were a people he could never really trust. He didn't like them, but this one claimed to know of something to give them. It was worth listening to, perhaps. Maybe if he just let the albino speak, he'd leave faster.

The militaristic kingdom snorted, his smirk darkening. "I see Spain never got around to teaching you manners, eh boy?" Romano flushed angrily. "No matter. I've come here on important business."

"You're going to give us something?" Veneziano spoke up, trying to look brave, though he was holding his brother's hand under the table. Romano squeezed it gently in encouragement. Even though he was scared of this barbarian from the north, Lovino knew he had to be brave for his little brother, even if his own knees were quaking.

Prussia's eyes gleamed with a vicious sort of glee before he smiled what the brothers assumed was meant to be a charming sort of smile, though it looked terribly wicked, making both of them flinch slightly. "Indeed I am," he nodded once, his tone calm and even. "I'm here to give you a grand gift!"

"Really?" Feliciano sat up a little straighter, while Lovino tried to pull him back.

The German's smile turned into a haughty sort of sneer as he nodded. "_Ja_. I bring to you the gift of opportunity."

Instincts flaring to life, Romano scowled, sizing up the other nation across from him. Prussia could easily take them both, but the older Italian was convinced that they might have a chance if they caught the albino off guard. He didn't trust this nation, he never really had. "What sort of _opportunity_?" he asked slowly, his whole body taunt, ready to spring should the other try something.

As though completely in control, Prussia smiled that twisted smile of his before taking a drink of wine they had gotten for him when he'd arrived. The older nation stopped as he tasted it, and Romano just knew that the Prussian was judging it at that moment. That stinking German probably didn't have any taste since he sullied his pallet with all that beer. "The best sort of opportunity there is." He paused before leveling both Italian's with a steady, intense gaze. "The opportunity of independence."

Romano sat up a little straighter, and he felt his brother squeeze his hand urgently. "Independence?" the older boy spoke up, his voice sounding more strained than he would have liked. He hoped the strange nation didn't notice. "Y-you can't promise us that. No one can. We're under Austrian rule. We have no independent allies."

Once more the Prussian looked completely unfazed, bored almost, as he studied the southern nation across from him. "As of now, yes, you are," he nodded. "But what if you were given a distraction and jumped on the mighty Austrian Empire's back while he wasn't looking? Who knows, perhaps you'd find yourself an ally."

"W-we couldn't do that," Veneziano shook his head, unnerved by the red eyes staring at him. He had always been scared of the Germanic kingdom ever since he had been little and more reliant on others than he already was. "We have no allies."

That feral grin slipped onto the albino's lips faster than lightning could strike the earth. "And this is where I present to you an opportunity," he bowed his head cordially.

Romano's eyes widened as understanding dawned on him. "Y-you're going to be our ally?" he stared blankly at the other for a moment. "Are you crazy? Are you going to start a war with Austria? _Chigi_! Idiot! You can't start a war with him!"

The albino laughed, sending chills down the spine. There was an almost crazed gleam in those bloody eyes, a sadistic glee shining very clear. "And why not? You don't think I could do it?" Neither Italian answered the biting challenge. "I can take down the bastard, you just wait! All I need is for you both to provide a distraction while I'm fighting. Simultaneously, I'll be your distraction. It'll be perfect. You get your independence, just like you failed to do in '48," the brothers flinched at the slap in the face. "So, what do you say?"

Lovino stared at the other man across from him for a long moment. One was not supposed to make a deal with the devil, and the Prussian certainly looked the part. But if they were to give up the chance at gaining their independence, their shot at uniting the country and becoming stronger…The what if's couldn't get out of Romano's head, and he knew he would hate himself for the rest of his life should he not take this opportunity. He would always wonder what if they could have succeeded…

"What are you getting out of this, anyway?" he asked instead, narrowing his eyes. "What is Prussia after?"

For the first time in the meeting, the albino suddenly looked subdue, deep in thought, as though carried away in a dream. It softened the older nation's features, made him look more human that demon. "Let's just say I'll get what should have been mine after Napoleon."

Veneziano looked at his brother questioningly, but Romano tried to ignore him and kept his poker face in place as long as possible. Was this some sort of trick, or was this the real thing? This was almost too good to be true, and yet, here was the opportunity, staring him in the face. "A-all right." He took a deep breath. "All right. We'll do it. You start your war, we'll start our revolution, and hopefully," he paused, looking over at his younger brother, "we won't regret it."

Prussia laughed again, looking scarily joyful as he stood up, shaking his head like he might at a couple of fools. "You won't regret a deal with me," he smirked, extending one white hand. "Let's make a deal."

Romano had the very great feeling that he was signing on with Satan, but swallowed his fears. This was no time to act like a coward, even though every instinct told him to run from this deal with Prussia. The what-ifs in his mind would not let him be, and he knew he would be haunted should he ignore them. Either way, he was trapped, and he had to do what was best for not only himself, but for his brother and people as well. Veneziano looked up to him for reasons Lovino could not understand, and he certainly did not want to disappoint. He was a grandson of the great Rome, after all, and it was time that he started acting like it. Maybe then he could finally live in peace.

Holding his breath, Romano took the offered hand. Prussia squeezed it hard, as though trying to prove his dominance, causing the older Italian to wince slightly. When the albino released, the older brother was pleased to see Feliciano stand and shake hands as well. For some reason, it made him proud to see his brother step up to take responsibility as well and also relieved to know that at least he had Feliciano to help him burden this responsibility.

"_Sí_," the younger nodded once the German had finally released the little Italian's hand. "W-we'll try and maybe we'll get to be our own country very soon."

Something within the ruby eyes lit up with a scornful sort of glee, causing Romano to scowl. "_Ja_, perhaps you will be," the Prussian nodded.

The older nation turned to leave, but Romano became suddenly panicked, nervous about his nation's stake in Prussia's crazy plan. "Wait! Where are you going now?" he asked. "W-will you contact us soon?"

Prussia looked at the two boys like a commander would his more slovenly soldiers. "I'm not going to abandon you to figure this all out," he drawled, not at all impressed with the others. "And as for me, I go to France."

"France?" Veneziano piped up. "Why are you going to see big brother France?"

The demonic grin slipped back onto the pale lips, leaving the Italians quaking. "The more involved, the merrier, _ja_?" he asked before he left without another word, turning on his heels and walking from the room, leaving the two Italians wondering if they had just done the right thing, or if they would be damned to hell.

**oOoOoOo**

**April 1866**

Ludwig sat uncomfortably with Roderich in his parlor while Lilie made tea for them all to share. The rather contented relationship that the boy had once shared with his Austrian neighbor was strained now and weak at best. They rarely played the piano together anymore as Roderich's temper got so out of control, and Ludwig wasn't interested in learning much from the Austrian any longer. While the blonde respected his cousin greatly, there were instances, such as now, where he did not like the man. It was times such as these that Ludwig couldn't help but believe Gilbert had been right about the Austrian all along.

"I wasn't expecting you today, _Herr Österreich,_" Ludwig broke the awkward silence. "What brings you here?"

Lilie came back into the room with three cups of tea. She gave one to the empire before she served Ludwig and then herself. The two children sat together, looking like a picture of the perfect young couple, the boy holding himself ridged like a protector while narrowing his eyes into chips of ice at the guest, while the girl stared on with wide cyan eyes. They were very similar to one another, but they could not have been mistaken for brother and sister.

Austria took a sip of tea before he set it down calmly, before studying the two young one before him. "I just came on a quick business trip," the brunette's manner was cool, but it was quite clear that his patience was limited. One slight provocation could send him over the edge.

"Business?" Ludwig inquired calmly. "I had thought we concluded our business several weeks ago. Has something new come up?"

Purple eyes hardened ever so slightly, and the boy became instantly alert. Austria was here because of something Prussia was doing that was affecting the Germans. Ludwig knew that. He had noticed a change occurring within him after the defeat of Demark not too long ago. There was something great stirring within his people, but the young confederation was wary of where this change was going. The last time he had felt like this he had tried to ignore it, and had ended up falling ill a short time after Gilbert had found him all those many years ago. Ludwig desperately hoped that this was not happening to him again.

"Yes," Roderich drawled after a moment of looking the children over. "Do you recall that trade agreement that the Prussians excluded me from several years back?"

"The _Zollverein_?" the boy cocked his head to the side. "What of it?" Beside him, Lilie took his hand in hers, squeezing a warning.

"Prussia promised that the Austrians could join and benefit from the trading," the pianist explained. "The agreement should be going into affect quite soon." There was a long pause as the children waited for the empire to continue, knowing that the man was nowhere near finished with his speech. "It seems that he and his people aren't going to comply."

Ludwig closed his eyes momentarily, grieving his brother's bold spirit. It was no wonder that Austria was angry with him, the blonde was just catching the backlash from his brother's actions. It made sense in a way, but it made the boy uncomfortable. He had no real power when it came to Gilbert, though Roderich seemed to think so. He was constantly being placed in the middle, but he had no idea what it was he was supposed to be doing.

"I see," was all he managed to say after a short while.

"Why is he doing this?" Austria suddenly snapped, glaring fiercely at the boy.

"I don't know," Ludwig replied evenly.

"Is he planning to attack me?"

"I don't know." Ludwig frowned. "Not agreeing to let you enter into a trade is no provocation for war, don't you think?"

"It is when he damn well ran off to France!" Roderich roared, surprising both children, standing up to glare in Ludwig's face.

To them, Austria was almost always calm, always collected. Neither one had ever really seen the man this angry before, though they had heard news that he had been awful during and after the revolutionary spring. Ludwig had tried his best to protect Lilie from seeing her mentor like this. He could still remember the last time the Austrian had gotten upset about this particular trade agreement, when Prussia had made the young confederation sign the deal in which excluded Austria in the pianist's _own _home. That was not a particularly pleasant memory Ludwig liked to recall.

As the boy and the man stared off, Roderich seemed to come to his senses again and realized that he was screaming in the face of a child. With an awkwardness that stemmed from guilt, the brunette sat back down and adjusted his glasses. He cleared his throat before taking a sip of tea. "That brother of yours has gone off to France," he spoke again, this time, his temper reigned in and under tighter control. "I've heard word that he's also gone down to Italy as well."

Ludwig shifted in his seat a bit uncomfortably. He knew that his brother had become almost obsessed with gaining all German land, claiming it was time to "free" Germans from the clutches of foreign imposters, and this went right along with the boy's fears. It seemed Gilbert was gone again and left with only Prussia to prowl around the world to devour anything within his path. Prussia was a wolf, the blonde had learned that much, had always known that about his brother deep down, but he had never wanted to admit it. He wanted to believe his brother was doing everything for good, and not selfish, reasons, but there was a margin of doubt that slipped into his mind each time.

The name Gerwig suddenly sprang into the boy's mind, the name that had pledged him for years, yet he could never find mention of it. Gerwig, Roderich had said, was Gilbert's other brother, but that brother was never mentioned by the albino anymore. There was not a time in which the crimson-eyes man ever seemed to mourn or reflect back on the other child.

_Not one tear, Elizabeta, not _one_ damn tear_. Austria's words rang in his ears from years before. Gilbert had not cried for his brother's sake, had not seemed to even _care _about the other boy's passing, and whenever Holy Rome's name would come up in discussion, Gilbert was swift to change the subject. This seemed to fit in with the theme of his brother trying to invade his lands after the revolutions, or any of Prussia's harsher treatments of him in the past.

Once again, the boy found himself trapped in doubt and suspicion on both sides. Austria, though Ludwig found himself swiftly cutting himself away from the man, still felt some semblance of loyalty to him. It had been Austria who had helped support the Holy Roman Empire when he had crumbled, had helped stabilize the German Confederation in a time of mass confusion. Although Roderich was being foul tempered lately, Ludwig couldn't help but still care for his cousin.

Gilbert, on the other hand, gave the blonde a headache every time he tried to think too in depth about the albino. On the surface, Ludwig adored his older brother, he loved how funny Gilbert was, how the man treated him, in most instances, like an equal, teaching him how to become strong. He loved that his brother believed in a Germany just the same as he did. He loved how Gilbert always seemed to _be there _for him when no one else was. Even though he didn't have to, Gilbert was always taking care of him, helping him any way he could to make him stronger and to keep him safe. It was for these reasons that Ludwig would forever love and adore his older brother, but that did not mean that Gilbert was without fault.

What Ludwig did not always like, what he sometimes actually hated, was Prussia. Gilbert would open himself up, his heart and soul, to the boy, but it was Prussia that always seemed to get in his way. Prussia was a sweet-talker, a fierce manipulator, one that spoke in half truths with double meanings. Prussia was power-hungry, driven by a desire to gain more land, to do whatever it took to become the dominate presence amongst the Germans. This was the side of his brother that the blonde feared. Prussia had little pity and no sympathy for the weak. It was when Prussia came to the surface and choked out Gilbert that made Ludwig despair. The balancing act between humanity and nationality was difficult, Ludwig knew and understood that, but that did not mean that he did not wish that things were different. That perhaps it could be different if he just tried a little harder…

But there was no time to reflect upon the doubts Austria or Denmark or anyone else had helped plant in his mind at the moment. Roderich was staring at him expectantly, and the boy knew that he should not leave the other nation waiting. "I didn't know about any of that," he spoke firmly, coolly. "I have no say or information about Prussian affairs."

A pained expression crossed Roderich's face, as though he had truly hoped that he could gain something from talking to Ludwig. While a small part of the boy felt bad, he knew he had nothing to give to the Austrian. He had at first thought he was in on his brother's plans at winning the German states, but that had proven false when Prussia had gone through its small crisis a few years back, and Ludwig had never really heard about it again, though he knew his brother was still plotting. Every time the albino came over now, he was probing for information. But for the time being, Ludwig could not help Roderich even if he'd wanted to as he knew nothing that the brunette probably didn't already know.

The three occupants of the room stayed silent, Lilie still holding onto Ludwig's hand tightly as they watched many different emotions flash over Austria's face. At last, Roderich stood and looked down at both children. "Thank you for your time this evening," he said coolly, "But I believe I have business with my parliament."

The children stood and showed their boss to the door. As Austria put on his coat, he started down at each child one last time, giving them each a very hard stare. "I will be calling on you both again very soon," his voice was sharp, pointed more at the confederation than at Liechtenstein. "Good day."

The blondes watched the Austrian as he entered into his carriage and then as it drove away. The children looked at each other, both as white as a ghost. "What did he mean by that?" Lilie asked, ringing her hands in her apron.

Ludwig's heart was pounding wildly in his chest. A wave of nausea flooded over the boy and he felt violently ill, like he might pass out. The edges of his vision blurred black, and his legs began shaking. It was only his stubbornness that kept him upright, and his fear of alarming Liechtenstein. "It means," his voice was quaking, "that there is going to be a very real fight against Austria and Prussia soon." Lilie gasped, but Ludwig went on, as though he hadn't heard her. "And that he wants us to fight for him."

Lilie wasn't very old, she hadn't been old enough to truly remember and come to know and fear Napoleon, but she was surprisingly perceptive and knew that her companion was distressed, though he was not showing much. Gently, she took Ludwig's arm and helped him back into the parlor and poured him a fresh cup of tea. The boy drank it gratefully, still shocked and feeling queasy, but at least he wasn't alone at the moment.

The two children sat together in silence the rest of the night, neither one caring to eat or speak, but neither wanting to be alone. Ludwig became ill during the course of the night, and Lilie stayed with him, taking care of him as best as she could while they both awaited Austria's message fearfully.

**oOoOoOo**

**June**

Prussia strutted giddily towards the appointed meeting ground to speak to Austria about the conflict. He saw the brunette standing in his military uniform, scowling. It gladdened the albino's heart to see it. "_Österreich_!" he called happily. "_Guten Tag, _my friend. How are you this fine day?"

"_Preuβen_, as the Austrian Empire, and upon the many violations you have been committing against myself and the _Deutscher Bund_, I am hereby delivering a formal declaration of war to you," Austria's voice was hard, his sentences clipped as he delivered his too formal speech.

Most nations dreaded receiving word that they were going to war, and hated it more still when it was delivered to them by the opposing country in person. But Prussia wasn't most nations. Upon hearing the news, Gilbert tossed back his head and laughed, long and hard. "_You're _declaring war on _me_?" he sneered. "That's rich!"

Austria's face crumpled up with absolute hate and disgust. "Do you not understand the seriousness of this, you fool?" he spat. "After everything I've done to move on and create peace with you, all you've done is struggled and spat in my face at every turn!"

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Cut the drama, Roddy, we both know that there was never any peace between the two of us."

"We _had _one before you decided to be ungrateful!" Austria roared.

"No, we had an agreement that we'd hated France more," Gilbert's smile was feral. "Now, let's get back to the particulars of this little conflict, shall we? You're declaring war on me?"

The brunette bristled, but seemed to desperately be trying to reign in his temper. "Correct. Me and your brother." There was great satisfaction behind those words, and it made the albino scowl. "If you want the boy, you're going to have to fight for him."

"I'll fight you," Gilbert nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes, certain that he was being tested, "but I'm not going to fight Ludwig."

"You'll have to if you want him," Roderich stated firmly, sizing up his enemy.

While he knew this would be a possibility, that Austria would use his brother against him the same as France had, Gilbert still didn't like it. To fight against his brother would be like fighting his own people, something Prussia adamantly refused to do. But as it was now, Ludwig's people were not _technically _his and there was no gain without sacrifices…though he still didn't like it.

Slowly, the albino nodded solemnly. "Very well. If that's what it takes. I'll see you on the battlefield."

Prussia turned to go after that. He had no more business with the other nation, and he had planning to do if he was going to win this war as quickly as possible. "Wait!" he heard Austria call out to him. "_Halt_! Stop!"

Gilbert turned around, glaring at the other man. "Was there more?" he asked, still remaining composed, but just barely.

"You would really meet your own brother out on the battlefield and harm him?" the brunette asked incredulously.

"If that's what it takes to get him away from _you_, then yes," Prussia stated bluntly. "He's still young, but he'll understand. All young nations must learn. I'll be seeing you soon, _Österreich,_" he smirked and walked away, not looking back to see the other man's surprised face.

**oOoOoOo**

**21-22 July **

Gilbert waited at the train station for the rest of his troops to arrive. It was at this moment, while in the middle of a fight, severely outnumbered, that Prussia was glad he had sent those scouts to observe that American Civil War and pick up the idea of delivering troops by train. While he was outnumbered by Austria and German troops, his men was better trained and a hell of a lot faster. With this new train car of men, he hoped to even the numbers and send that Austrian bastard home with his tail between his legs. It was only a matter of time.

As he led his reinforcements into the camp, Prussia couldn't help the nagging feeling at the back of his mind. He had seen Austria around the battlefield at times, though the other nation mostly sent that she-wick Hungary after him if he got too close, just like a _real_ man, but even though he had seen those two around, he had yet to see his brother. It was as though West wasn't even here though there were German troops scattered around. While Gilbert liked the idea of his brother being far from the fight and the blood, he did not necessarily like the fact that he had no idea where the child was. Had Ludwig come? Was he lying somewhere out on the field hurt? God forbid something truly terrible had happen to the boy!

Growling out orders to the nearest captain, Prussia excused himself for a moment before he went and found a place to sit. He always carried some paper with him and a pencil just in case he needed to send a message of some sort. He sat down and scribbled a quick note before he removed his hat. Just as always, the little bird that sat upon his head was still there, and Gilbert gently removed him from his head. The little fellow seemed annoyed with all of the loud noises and neglect, and pecked his master on the hand for good measure.

"Easy, little guy," the albino muttered under his breath. "I need you to do me a favor."

The animal seemed to know that something important was being asked of him, and stood up in Gilbert's hands. "I need you to fly this to West, understand?" he tied the message around the leg carefully. "Go find West, the little boy I'm always with. Fly to him."

The bird knew Ludwig quite well. The boy liked to play with Gilbert's pet whenever the Prussian came over, and of course he always obliged. He knew his pet was smart, smarter— and longer lived, certainly—than any normal animal. He knew that this little bird must have some sort of connection to him since it had been alive nearly as long as Prussia himself, and he knew he could trust the creature with his mission even though he knew that his tiny bird was certainly not a breed that should be able to carry on this task.

"Find West," he said one more time before he went to find the rest of his men as his bird flew up into the air.

Besides his uncertainty about his brother, things were going very well for Prussia. Despite being outnumbered, his men were better than Austria's, and he had Italy as an ally. The look on Austria face when he'd realized the Italians had made an agreement with Prussia had been priceless. Now the Italians had launched their own fight and were struggling to free themselves from the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Gilbert had had his doubts about his southern "allies" but true to their word, despite all of their cowardice, they were proving to be rather tenacious at the moment, and were putting up a good fight against the Austrians. That was all Gilbert had wanted. He had started this, and now they were proving to be just what he needed to distract his enemy.

Trudging back around, Prussia had found that it was nearly dark out. The fighting would be stopping for the time being. Their attack in Lama

was going fairly well by Prussia's standards. There wasn't a whole lot of blood as of yet as his men had only seen about twenty-seven days of fighting thus far. That wasn't too bad considering they'd spent years fighting and defending against the revolutionaries not so far back, and even longer when that Frog commander Napoleon was on the loose, though there were very few, if any, besides the personifications themselves that now remembered it.

The albino closed his eyes as he listened to the sounds around him. This hadn't been a very difficult war thus far, but he hoped that it wouldn't last long. He hadn't seen his brother since the beginning of April and it was now nearing the end of July. He wondered what the boy thought of all this. The last time he had talked to Ludwig, the boy had seemed distant and…lonely. The thought of his little brother feeling like that made the Prussian's heart ache. That was a feeling he, too, knew all too well, and he _never _wanted Ludwig to feel something so horrible like the utter despondency of being abandoned. He hoped that the boy wasn't too angry with him for all of this, though Gilbert knew he could easily pass the blame to Austria, as it _was _Austria who declared war first.

He spent so much time thinking that night, that Prussia hadn't realized when his thoughts turned to dreams. He was shaken awake by one of the soldiers, informing him that Major-General Bose wanted him in the front. Obediently, Gilbert went to his general and the fighting began once again. The fighting seemed to last only a moment to the nation, who was desperately looking out for his foe, when word came: the Austrians had asked for a cease fire.

Gilbert stared at the message for a long moment before his lips curled into a nasty smile. A ceasefire? A _ceasefire_? That was nearly the same as surrendering! "I did it!" he cried, jumping off his horse, startling the poor beast in the process. "I did it!" he cried again, running towards the camp, leaving his horse to trot after him.

As he ran into camp, Prussia found Bose and several of his officers around him, looking over a message of some sort as well. "General!" Gilbert called, sprinting over to them like a flash of white. "Did you hear? I did it!"

Most Prussians who were exposed to their personification were quickly introduced and acquainted with his egotistical and brash manner, so none batted an eyelash at his self-praising language. "_Ja_," Bose nodded. "I heard that the Austrian Prince himself is coming to talk terms."

Prussia burst out laughing, throwing his head back and just laughing until his sides hurt. He began wiping the tears away from his eyes as he looked at his men, who were starting at him oddly. "A month," he smirked at them. "After hundreds of years despising that man, that nation, it only took me near a month to defeat him. I am _awesome_!"

It was later that night, when all of the remainder of the fighting came to a halt, and all was calm, that a very proud and cocky Prussia met with his rivals, head high and shoulders squared. He looked over his enemies calmly, noting that they seemed a little ruffled, but none too worse for wear. They met alone again, no humans around to interrupt the negations of the nations.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the loser and his whore." He cackled, "Kesesese! What's the matter, my awesome too much for you?"

Austria looked furious, and Hungary exhausted, but neither one said a word in retaliation to the victor. It pleased the Prussian immensely. "We've come here to settle this matter," Roderich's voice was quiet and bitter. It made the albino feel giddy.

"_Sehr gut_!" Gilbert laughed. "So what has the _mighty _Austro-Hungarian Empire have to say to the _almighty_ and awesome Prussia, eh?"

"The German Confederation will be split up," Roderich said bluntly.

Gilbert paled. "Excuse me?"

Roderich sneered. "The German Confederation is being disbanded as you and your government wanted. There will be no more _Deutscher Bund. _Liechtenstein has already made a move and declared herself independent. You will be granted more land in the north, as you wanted, though I'm not sure about the rest of the German land. That depends on if you can win them over as well."

A thrill of horror flared over Prussia as the words soaked in. "Disbanded?" he repeated. "You're going to _disband_ Ludwig?"

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Hungary snapped, her green eyes flaring with fury. "You've finally gotten what you've always wanted."

"Where is Ludwig?" Gilbert snapped, trying his hardest not to appear horrified, though he knew he wasn't doing a very good job.

"How should I know?" Austria's voice was dark and foreboding. "He got quiet ill before the fighting took place. I'm not sure where he is now. He never came into battle, just sent some men from the south."

"_Himmel donner wetter_!" the albino swore loudly, grabbing at his hair not caring that his composure had just been shattered. "You idiot!" he screamed at Austria, startling the brunette and his wife. "Why didn't you check up on him? _Arschloch, _what if he's…he's…"

"Dead?"

The word hung in the air thickly, and Gilbert nearly got sick because of it. Prussia's mind began swirling and he nearly collapsed he felt so ill with guilt. He had planned out everything to get to where he was today, to winning this conflict with Austria once and for all, to win his brother back, but had he really forgotten about his brother's well being in the process? When had he become more obsessed with gaining the territory and not even consider the person behind it? He had not wanted dissolution, he had wanted to take over the _whole _confederation!

"Ironic, isn't it," Austria went on, his amethyst eyes cold, "that for years now you have accused me of destroying Gerwig, and here you are now, almost sixty years to the day, you're the one who willfully stormed through his lands to kill him off at last. I do hope it was worth it."

Without thinking twice, Gilbert ran. He turned and ran and didn't look back. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He pushed himself as hard as he could until he made it to camp. Once there, he strode over to his horse, so as not to frighten the poor beast, before he mounted.

"_Herr Preuβen!_" someone called out to him. "_Herr Preuβen, wohin gehen Sie_?"

But Prussia didn't stop, he hadn't heard the voice. All he could think about was his younger brother, his West. What if Austria was right? What if Ludwig would die because of all this, once all the papers were signed? There _had _to be a way to still save his brother! God, why hadn't he thought the consequences through more thoroughly? Why had he taken this gamble?

He rode hard to München where he knew his brother was staying at for the time being, close to his ally Austria, but still far enough away incase his ally was taken and surrounded. It made sense that Ludwig should be staying there for the time being, and so that was where the albino went with neck breaking speed, the whole while his mind filled with anxiousness and fear.

Somehow, after several tortured hours, Prussia found himself in München. His horse nearly collapsed from exhaustion, and in the back of his mind, Gilbert felt sorry for the creature, but at the moment he was far more concerned for his brother, and he ignored the panting animal and instead ran to the house. The door looked to have been forced open, sending a chill of dread down the albino's spine. "West!" he called, running inside.

There looked to be nothing seriously wrong with the home, the furniture was all upright, and he could hear a clock ticking in the background. There were no lights or any other sound, however. "West?" he called again, almost too afraid to break the silence.

The Prussian began a thorough investigation of the house, calling out to his brother as he did so. The boy was nowhere to be seen on the first floor, and so Gilbert stormed up the stairs, his worry nearly exploding into sheer panic. "West!" he cried.

His heart was pounding loudly in his ears. West _had _to be here, Ludwig just had to be! There was no way the boy could have disappeared already, that was not a possibility the albino would entertain. His brother was around here somewhere, and he was live. Dammit, West was alive!

On the second door he tried, Gilbert nearly sobbed in relief when he saw his brother, lying in bed, still, but breathing, a small candle burning at his bedside. "West!" he sighed, rushing towards the boy. There was a note of some sort next to the boy, but the albino ignored it in favor of checking the child's temperature. He was warm, too warm to be natural, but he was still breathing. That was all Gilbert cared about at the moment.

When he removed his hand from the other's pale forehead, icy eyes cracked themselves open, and blue found red. "_B-Bruder_?"

Gilbert smiled tenderly at his little brother, carding his fingers through the flaxen hair. "Shh, _Bruderlein, _I'm here. Big brother is here."

A peep was heard near the bed post, causing Gilbert to look up. There was his little bird, sitting quietly, the message still tied to his leg. "Hey little fellow," he muttered as the bird flew and nestled back into his hair.

"Are you all right?"

The older personification blinked several times before he stared down at his sick brother. "_Was_? Oh, yes, I'm fine. I'm here to look after you."

"You're bleeding," the boy said quietly, coughing a little.

"It's okay, West," Gilbert soothed, continuing to pet his brother's head, completely unaware of the small injuries he had obtained. "It's nothing too serious. I'm here to watch out for you."

"What about Austria?" the boy looked worried. "Does he know you're here?"

"Yes," Prussia nodded, his eyes hardening at the mention of his defeated rival. "He knows I'm here, and he can't do anything to stop me. Not anymore."

Ludwig's eyes widened, showing off their yellowing color. "Y-you won?"

For once, Gilbert didn't feel like bragging. He felt terrible. It was because he had won that his brother was in this state to begin with. How could he have done this? "Rest now, West. I'll tell you all about it in the morning."

"Lilie's gone, you know," Ludwig said sadly, as his eyes seemed to grow heavier. "She left me all alone here."

Gilbert's heart broke at the pitiful statement, though he knew his brother would not want any pity. "It'll be all right, West. We don't need her. We have each other. _I'm _the dominate German now."

But the blonde hadn't heard that. He had already fallen back asleep, the fight for his land and control of his people slowly tearing him apart taking all of his energy. It wasn't the first time this had happened to the boy, but Gilbert swore that as long as he still drew breath, it would be the last. _He _was in charge now, and he would fight until he couldn't anymore to make his brother free, to make his brother his own nation.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Phew! This was a long one, wasn't it? But I thought since many of you were hoping and waiting anxiously for the big explosion of rivalry between Austria and Prussia that you wouldn't mind a few extra thousand or so words. ;) The quote from the past that Roderich had said was from ch. 19 if you didn't remember it. ^^

**History: **While I know many of you were expecting epic battle scenes and lots of blood between Austria and Prussia, you're thinking of the wrong war. The Seven Weeks War (The German War, Unification War, German Civil War, whatever you want to call it) was not necessarily a big blows match. Most of the action happened covertly with Prussia undermining the Austrian Empire, so that when they did fight, Austria really wouldn't have much to throw at them.

First and foremost, Prussia sent ambassadors ILLEGALLY to Italy and France to try and sign an alliance with them so that when Prussia fought Austria, Austria would be distracted by a multi-front fight. The French declined the offer, but the Italians took it up, which led to the Unification of Italy. (Yes, the Italians, in many ways, have Prussia to thank for that). That was Bismarck's idea. The second big thing, which started the war was the fact that the Prussians refused, after signing an agreement and making promises, to let the Austrian's in on the _Zollverein. _This was making a lot of money for the Germans, and Austria had really wanted in on it.

The war itself was basically seven weeks, as its name describes. It started on 14 June and basically ended the 22 July. The official date in which it ended is 23 August, but that's only because the Austrian's had to come to an agreement with Italy. For the Prussians, the fight was done much sooner. It was a decisive Prussian win, even though the Prussians were outmanned. The Prussians had a better strategy and technology, and as mentioned in the fic, they used the railways to their advantage to send troops thanks to sending scouts to watch the American Civil War and bringing back some of their tactics.

In the end, the German Confederation was dissolved and the North German Confederation was formed with Prussia as the leader. The south of German was still not sure what to do, and it will take the NEXT war to fully unify Germany. The Battle of Lamač was the last battle fought before the ceasefire was announced.

**German: **_Himmel donner wette- _literally translates to "Sky Thunder Weather" but there is no real translation for it. It is typically used at the beginning of an exclamation to show sheer and utter frustration. _Wohin gehen Sie?- _Where are you going? München= Munich :D …you should know the rest by now…

'**Nother Author's Note: **Okay, so now we're one big step closer to German Unification. Next up will be some time spent with the brothers healing and then another encounter with France. This battle, although not made as such a big deal like the Seven Weeks War, is actually more important and more exciting, but I guess you'll just have to see about it later on. ;)

Please do leave a review on your way out if you'd be so kind! I'd really love and appreciate to hear from ya'll. Thanks! :D


	29. Chapter 25: Calm Before the Storm

For Rina~ in hopes that she'll remember me fondly before the aliens arrive and destroy America while she's safe and happy in Germany. ^^

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**Chapter Twenty-Five: Calm Before the Storm**

**1867**

After the war with Austria, things for the nations had started to look up, though not so much for the personifications. The loss of influence within the German states had nearly sent Austria over the edge. He became jumpy and suspicious of everyone, while his government did their best to keep on friendly terms with their neighbors in the north. The Prussians were all quite pleased with themselves and all that they'd done, winning the Germans respect and adoration. Prussia himself was disturbed with how ill his brother had become although he was torn with being pleased and proud of having won against his oldest rival.

But the one who was the most confused, torn, and indeed most affect by the recent war, was Ludwig. He knew his brother had been trying to win him over, had been trying to do what was best for him, but that didn't stop the pain that came. The young blonde was quite proud of his big brother for winning the war against Austria in such a short time. It was truly impressive how well the Prussians had fought, not just against the Austrians, but even the Danish before them. He could feel how pleased and impressed his people were, how they suddenly all felt proud of themselves for being related to such a powerful nation as Prussia, and that the big nation recognized them. The feeling of nationalism coursed through the German speaking world, and it was wonderful.

Sighing, the boy looked out his window from bed. Gilbert had confined him to his bed ever since he'd found him ill in München and moved him to Berlin. He didn't remember the move much, he'd had a rather high fever, and whenever he asked about it, the albino only told him that he had slept most of the way, only getting up to eat a bit. Ludwig had figured as much, but he had a feeling that something else had gone on while he was…not lucid.

The move itself, the boy had realized soon after, was quite an insult to the Austrians, while marking a grand victory for the Prussians. Ludwig had more or less lived with Austria since 1815, and had never strayed much into Prussian territory. If he was not with Roderich, he was in his home near Stuttgart, so that he could be close to Liechtenstein and Austria. Gilbert had always hated that his brother was restricted to his southern regions, only going to the north every so often to check up on the people when Austria allowed, and had more than once vowed that soon Ludwig would be moving closer to Prussia. Now that Gilbert had won against Austria, he had wasted no time in moving his brother into "safer" territory.

It was a bit…strange to be in Berlin after living primarily in the south for so long. At first, when someone had come to the house to speak with his brother, it had taken the boy by surprise to hear the different accent. He didn't know why it took him by surprise so much, but the Berlin accent was quite…different than any of the people in his regions. But then again, now his northern half was now officially Prussian territory, so he should get used to it

Sighing, the boy scowled as he looked down at the unfamiliar bed. His head hurt, and yet he couldn't stop thinking to give his poor aching cranium a rest. He felt sick all the time, and the only way he believed that perhaps he could recover, he hesitated doing it. The north was now under Prussian control, but the south…it was free to do as it liked for the time being. There was no Austria to tell it what to do, only Prussia trying to persuade it to accept Prussian rule. While that might not sound like such a terrible position, it was the worst thing to have happened to Ludwig in years.

What was he supposed to do now? He had dreamed of the day he could finally live with his brother and just rest and forget about the world's trouble, but now that he could, it didn't seem so simple. It wasn't at all like he thought it would be. He was being split in two, a side that was ruled by the Prussians and the side that was relatively independent. It was painful to try and play the middle ground as he was, and he knew that soon he would have to decided what he wanted to do.

If he would do anything, there were two options that Ludwig saw. One, he could cut his ties to the north and allow Gilbert to completely overshadow it, truly make it all Prussia and retreat to the south and perhaps be his own country. The second, he could retreat his influence in the south and become a territory of Prussia and wait to see if a new personification showed up to clam Bavaria and the other southern states.

Neither of these options appealed to the boy in the least. Retreating to one side of the other made the blonde feel like he was betraying his people. He couldn't do that. Everyone relied on him, they looked to _him _even as young as he was and how weak he had become over the last several decades. He was _their _personification, _all _of the Germans, and they had actually gotten rid of all the other personifications because they wanted _him_. They had even let the Holy Roman Empire go because they had wanted _him_, a nation that would understand the modern times and feelings. How could he even consider leaving one side or another?

But that was not the worst of it. The fact was, even if Ludwig could gather up enough selfishness and pick one side or another, he wasn't sure what that would do to him. He feared that should he decide to become Prussia's obedient little territory, that his brother, however unintentional, would overshadow him anyway and Ludwig would cease to exist. Should he go to the south, how could he know that he wouldn't fade way either? What if by leaving the north, he would leave a part of himself behind, and unknowingly destroy himself?

It could happen either way. What was it that made Ludwig the German states? Was it his language or his culture? Was it the land he controlled or the rivers? Was it the north or the south? The east or the west? What _was _he? What held him together? An identity? A name? He had nothing anymore, he had no name to fall back on. He wasn't _Deutscher Bund_, he was not the Confederation of the Rhine. What if the lack of proper identification killed him? Isn't this the way nations died? Isn't that what had killed the Holy Roman Empire?

It scared Ludwig, the possibility of dying. He wasn't brave, he realized as he trembled in his bed, not at all brave like his brother. He didn't want to die. So, that being the case, his only real option seemed to be just letting this ride out and staying where he was, right in the middle. But that was hardly any better, considering how painful it was to sit back and let his brother and his people decide for him, which was slowly destroy him.

At one time, Ludwig had considered sharing all of these thoughts with his brother, but he knew the Prussian wouldn't want to hear it. The albino felt terrible enough, he was sure, considering how down the man seemed lately. The boy could see the worry in the red eyes just as clearly as he could look out and see the sky. He wasn't just a prize to his brother, a trophy to show off to Austria, but someone his brother cared about. It made the boy feel special, in a selfish sort of way, knowing that this guilt induced his brother into showing that he cared, to act a little like how he used to when Ludwig had been younger.

Hearing the door open down stairs, Ludwig sat up attentively, waiting expectantly for his brother to come. Gilbert always came straight upstairs when he got home now to see him. Even in his pain, it pleased the blonde. The darker part of his mind, the boy believed that it was owed him, considering how much he was suffering was because of his brother's exploits.

Instead of hearing the familiar thumping of boots coming up the stairs, Ludwig heard…nothing. The child frowned as he strained to listen for his brother coming up the steps. Was Gilbert trying to be sneaky? Was he trying to be funny and play a joke on him? The albino hadn't played a trick on him since he had been little, since the elder German had been trying to instill discipline into the boy as he tried to train him. After that, things had gotten…intense and harsh training hadn't been required. So maybe he was trying to lighten his brother depression now by acting stupid? Maybe.

After about ten minutes of Gilbert's absence, Ludwig found himself worrying. Where was Gilbert? Had something happened to him? Had he hurt himself when he came into the house? Had he been hurt while out, and managed to just crawl home and collapsed on the floor, unable to make it inside further? Was it even Gilbert that had come in at all? What if someone had hurt his brother and stolen his keys to come rob the house? Or—

"Oi, West!" Gilbert called from down the stairs. "I'll be up in a minute! I got a surprise for you!"

—Or Ludwig had stayed in the house too long and he was going stir crazy and coming up with ridiculous scenarios that were too preposterous to ever be true…

"O-okay!" he called back, a bit uncertain. He had been feeling better today, but now he wasn't so sure. What sort of "surprise" would his brother have for him?

There was some thudding around down stairs before the familiar stomping up the stairs was heard at last. The door to the bedroom creaked open, and the albino stuck his head through, looking at his brother with a smile. "How you feeling today, West? Any better?"

Confused by the strange behavior, Ludwig eyes his brother warily before nodding. Usually when Gilbert was this chipper, he didn't bode well for someone. Who had he angered now? The boy sincerely hoped it wasn't Roderich again.

"Fine," he nodded. "I'm feeling better."

"Awesome!" the Prussia beamed. "I got a little surprise for you though, so close your eyes."

"Why would I cl—"

"Close 'em!"

Immediately, the boy found himself obeying and he closed his eyes with a slight sigh. He couldn't refuse his brother. Gilbert had been the one to save him when he was younger, after all, and he was the one who was taking care of him when everyone had left him, even Lilie…And there was the fact that Prussia had pounded in the idea of obedience into the boy's skull, making it almost impossible for the blonde to refuse a command from the albino.

With his eyes closed, the boy could hear the door squeak the rest of the way open and hear the heels of his brother's boots click on the floor as he walked into the room. Surprisingly, Ludwig heard a faint whine of some sort, but before he could question it, he felt his brother set something on the bed next to him, and it was _moving_. "Okay, you can open them."

By this point he was dying to know what it was, and as fast as they could, blue eyes snapped open. When he looked down, Ludwig gasped slightly in surprise before staring up at his brother, who was grinning from ear to ear. "Well?" the albino asked kindly. "What do you think?"

Ludwig reached out carefully to the little puppy that was sitting beside him, wiggling and looking scared and unsure of himself, rather like how the boy felt. The moment his hand touched the soft fur, the blonde found that he was in love. He couldn't help it. It was the sweetest looking little thing that he had ever seen. "Is-is it really mine?" he asked, as he pet the little dog.

"Sure is," Gilbert nodded sitting down beside his brother, smiling brightly. "Got him off of a farmer just outside of town. Said he had the greatest German Shepherd pups around. I picked this little guy out myself. It's a male."

As the albino was explaining his time out at this little farm, Ludwig wasn't paying attention anymore. How could he when there was a puppy so close? Smiling at _his _new pet, the blonde scratched behind the ear until the puppy when down, happily thumping his leg as the young nation had apparently found the sweet spot. It made the child laugh.

As Ludwig set out scratching and exploring the pups likes and dislikes, he didn't notice that his brother had stopped talking. Eventually, when the puppy seemed to have enough, and wanted to return the favor and say "thank you", he wiggled around until he could stand. Then, in all energetic innocence and love as only a puppy can show, the little creature jumped onto Ludwig's chest, and began and enthusiastic campaign of licking the boy's face, his little tail wagging happily. Ludwig tried to get out of the line of fire, but eventually he gave up and started laughing, hugging his puppy close.

When the boy and the puppy calmed down, Ludwig looked up at his brother with a bright smile. He noticed how happy his brother looked too. "Thank you so much, Gilbert!" the boy said sincerely, wishing he could truly express how jovial this made him.

The albino just kept the soft smile on his face as he nodded. "It was nothing, West. What are you going to call him?"

Looking at the excited puppy, Ludwig couldn't keep the grin off is face. He inspected the small animal for a moment, taking in the happy, smiling face of the German Shepherd, with his flopped over ears and cheerfully wagging tail, and mostly black, furry body. "Blackie!" he decided, grinning when the puppy, Blackie, chose that moment to jump into his arms again.

Gilbert burst out laughing, ruffling his brother's hair affectionately while petting the puppy. "That's an awesome name, West," he smirked. "Glad you like him."

Forgetting for a time of all of his problems, of even the possibility of his own death, Ludwig beamed at his brother. "Can he sleep in here with me? Please, _Bruder?_"

"Of course he can, West!" the albino smirked. "Can't leave you alone without a friend anymore, now can we?"

Ludwig couldn't quit smiling. His brother, his sometime thoughtless big brother, was really the kindest person he had ever known. No one had ever gotten him something like this. Sure, Roderich and Gilbert had gotten him some presence over the years, Lilie had made him pictures and outfits—some of them horrifyingly frilly— but to get his own animal? This was better than anything he'd ever gotten, by far. Not even the sword of the Holy Roman Empire could compare with the puppy. This was a gift that he could love and that could love him back.

"I'll have to show you how to take care of him, though," Prussia suddenly came into play once more, as he began to lecture. "Having a pet is a big responsibility, West. I won't be the one taking care of Blackie. He's yours. But if you need some help, just ask, and I'll help you."

"_Ja_," the boy nodded, "I will take care of him," he said seriously.

The Prussian nodded firmly, apparently pleased with his brother's willingness to accept responsibility. "_Gut_. I need to finish up some work downstairs. I'll be back up later, all right?"

"Okay." Ludwig was too distracted with Blackie to be listening closely to his brother, or particularly care, though he was giving one ear to the elder German.

The boy didn't notice how his brother rolled his eyes playfully. "Okay. Well, call if you need me."

"Okay."

For the first time in months, Ludwig hadn't noticed when his brother left, nor did he yearn for the older epitome's company at the moment. Instead of brooding about what would happen to him in the future or what he would do to keep himself occupied without his brother. Instead, the child's focus was on the little puppy jumping around on his bed. And for the first time in a long time, Ludwig was certain he wouldn't be alone ever again.

**oOoOoOo**

**June 1870**

Weeks passed into months, months into years, and with each passing day, Gilbert believed that he was the most awesome person—or personification, either or—in the world! The puppy that he had gotten West, now almost three years ago, was the best idea he had ever had. The boy loved that dog to death, and each day it seemed to give the blonde something to look forward to.

At first, Ludwig had been interested only in feeding and brushing the puppy, making sure Blackie was well taken care of. It had been humorous to watch the boy chase after the pup, making sure he didn't make a mess. Of course Gilbert had eventually allowed his brother to get out of bed, seeing as Ludwig wouldn't have stayed in it anymore when there was a puppy to look after, but all the same, the boy seemed to be doing better. It was amazing how a little dog could cure the pains and illnesses of a suffering child.

At first, Gilbert had been a bit annoyed with the messes that Blackie made, whether from playing or Ludwig not letting him out in time to use the bathroom. But the albino found he didn't mind so much considering his picky brother cleaned up instantly after his pet, apologized, and then scolded his dog. It had nearly made the albino laugh out loud when he had caught West scolding the puppy one day, looking like an adorable version of a general out on the battlefield reprimanding his troops.

After seeing that, for fun, Gilbert had had a _pickelhaube_ made to fit the boy. When he had brought it home, Ludwig's eyes had widened to the size of plates and he had stared at his brother adoringly. Seeing this, in turn, had caused Gilbert to have a small Prussian uniform made for his brother. Just as the helmet, the boy had been absolutely thrilled with the prospect of wearing his brother's uniform. It delighted the albino to know how much his brother esteemed him, enough to emulate him.

Seeing his little brother go about the house, playing in his little uniform utterly melted the militaristic nation's heart. His brother was absolutely adorable! His little blonde locks poked out from under his helmet, and his little Prussian blue uniform brought out the blue of his eyes. With his puppy by his side, the child had smiled up at his brother with the utmost adulation. "Do I look like a real soldier, _Bruder_?" he'd asked.

Gilbert could say nothing but "yes" to that beautiful smile.

The uniform, amusingly enough, had brought a real change about the boy. While dressed like his big brother, the boy seemed to take the part of soldier very seriously. He stood taller, kept his shoulders squarer, and even answered in short, clipped phrases of "yes, sir" and "no, sir" and only when spoken to. And since he was a _real _soldier now, Ludwig had taken on the odious task of training.

When the boy had first told his brother that he would need to train, Gilbert had adamantly opposed the idea. The boy might be well enough to go about the house, but the albino refused to have the boy overexert himself by physical activities. He realized that in the past he had pushed the boy a little harder than perhaps he should have— though it could be argued that that is what helped the child through the Revolutions. But not this time. Gilbert did not want to push his brother right now. What if something happened to the child? He could _not _lose his brother like this. He could never forgive himself should something happen to the boy, especially since Ludwig's weakened condition was his fault to begin with.

That argument had not been very long, seeing as the boy understood that he was weak and could not endure such strenuous exercises, but when Ludwig explained that his "training" would be for Blackie, so make his pet into a real working dog, Gilbert had agreed with a laugh. In his new uniform, Ludwig felt more grownup, and as such, did not have time for childish endeavors, and as such, needed a puppy that could obey the chain of command. "I'm going to train him to be a soldier's dog," Ludwig had declared, and Gilbert hadn't had the heart to tell the child that it might take a little longer for Blackie to become such a dog when the blonde's determination was so admirable.

So, it was every day, when Gilbert came home, he found his brother out in garden training Blackie while wearing his little uniform. It was quite cute to watch, and the albino ended up more often than not going to sit outside to do his paperwork, watching the child and the puppy together. It became so endearing that Gilbert called in a painter one afternoon to paint the likeness of his brother and his little "guard dog". He had told Ludwig that it was important for all great personifications, as well as soldiers, to have their portraits drawn to be remembered. "Even the Holy Roman Empire had had many drawn of himself after great conquests, West."

Ludwig had instantly agreed, latching upon anything that he thought would make him more of a nation. Gilbert didn't tell the boy that he had ordered a smaller painting for him to keep beside his bed. The boy would probably be opposed to that. He seemed to already think the albino didn't take him seriously, and Gilbert tried desperately to dissuade that idea because he dearly wanted to keep seeing his brother like this. It was just so sweet, and he knew it wouldn't last forever.

Before the painting had been finished, however, Ludwig had fallen ill once more, leaving the artist to complete it without his subject. The changes within the new North German Confederation taking its toll on the boy. Gilbert had tried to ease the child's suffering as much as possible. Blackie had been just as worried for the boy's health, and it was then that Gilbert realized his brother's bond with his dog was probably as close a connection as his was with his little bird. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did, though he couldn't help but be pleased. At least Ludwig had a loyal friend at last.

Time passed and so did the bout of illness that overtook the blonde. The boy remained weak for several weeks after, unable to even train his puppy, but it seemed that Blackie had learned his lessons enough to remember how to play fetch with his master, which provided some entertainment for the child stuck inside and to his bed.

And thus, almost three years came to pass much in this manner. Ludwig would progress in his health, relapse, and always Gilbert was there. He hated seeing his brother suffer so, and it was even worse that he couldn't make him well. He tried desperately to show the southern German states just how good he was, how wonderful he could make their lives, but for some reason, they stubbornly refused to agree to come under Prussian control. Bismarck—God bless the man!—was doing all he could, but they still seemed unsure.

Beside the southern German states, the rest of Europe seemed a bit on edge, as usual, not particularly caring for Prussia's gamble and pressure to gain territory. France was at the top of the list of being uneasy about just how much power his eastern neighbor was acquiring for himself, but Bismarck was just the right kind of politician that was able to smooth over their worries. Though secretly, Gilbert knew that old man was for a war, "One last one," he'd told the albino, "to finally create our _Deutschland_!"

Despite the unrest, all of the distrust, his brother's illness, Gilbert could not deny how wonderful he felt. This was all going to end soon, he could feel it. He was so very close to making his dream come true; his brother's dream a reality! There would soon be a strong German nation once more, the likes of which had not been seen since the beginning, when the Holy Roman Empire had been at his peak. He would make his brother that strong again, and he himself would rise along with him. Together, they would be more powerful than when Ludwig had first been established by Charlemagne in 800, perhaps even more long lived then their father, Germania.

What would the old German think of his sons now? Would he finally be proud of them? Would he be impressed with how well they'd survived, even though all odds had been against them from the beginning, Prussia because he had been a small territory, Ludwig because his nature as a confederation and empire made it easier for him to become dissolved? _Well look at us now, _Vati_. We're going to make you proud. We're going to be the strongest, just like you always wanted us to be. _

When Ludwig health improved, Gilbert humored his brother by taking him out on small little trips, whether it was just to the store, or even to a more causal meeting with Bismarck, or even King Wilhelm. The two humans became rather fond of the blonde, declaring that he could come along with Prussia whenever he liked. While the albino was thrilled and Ludwig had to be quite pleased, he had been a little putout, knowing that the men's reaction stemmed for from the fact that they found him cute rather than taking him seriously.

And since his brother had been doing so well, Gilbert had been persuaded to believe that his brother would be fine to accompany him to a meeting with France along the Rhine. It was still within German boundaries, but it was quite close to their western neighbor. Spain, too, would be attending, having said he had important business he'd like to discuss with the Prussian. Although he was still wary of other nations around his brother, the albino knew he couldn't shield West from them forever and decided to take the risk of bring him along. What could go wrong, after all? They were still on German soil, and Prussia would be right there.

So, sitting in the conference room with the two other personifications while West was out with Blackie, probably in the gardens, Gilbert looked over the other two men. He noticed they seemed to be doing fairly well, though Spain looked a bit haggard. His situation with Isabella II seemed to be taking its toll on him, though Prussia had heard that that was all being taken care of now. France, on the other hand, looked just as arrogant and guarded as he always tried to appear when in front of others, if not a bit cold to the Prussian.

Prussia continued to try and salvage his relation with France, but the blonde continued to remain vexed, no matter what Gilbert did to try and entice better feelings without making an ass of himself. Spain, ever the cheerful optimist he was, probably save the negotiations, tempering the albino's temper while seeming to humble the Frenchmen whenever things got too out of line. The Spaniard was playing both sides, but Gilbert could tell that the Mediterranean nation, odd as it was, seemed to be favoring the Germans in his talks, something France didn't miss either.

And so the meeting concluded with little gained, but nothing lost. It was just as well with the Prussian. He hadn't really wanted to come, but Bismarck had urged him to go to "keep up appearances". It mattered little to him, but at least he knew he had done his job and he wouldn't get in trouble this time for lashing out. He had been civil, though like Bismarck had allowed, he had picked on the Frenchman a bit, though subtly. France, despite his mind always being in the gutter, would have had to have been completely dim not to catch them.

Standing up along with his fellow nations, the three bid each other a pleasant day, before they parted ways. Not caring about the others, Gilbert went in a search for his brother. He only had to listen for the sounds of barking to find the boy. The other two nations followed him, apparently wanting to see the child as well. It bothered the albino as he did not want to share his brother's precious attention, but knew he couldn't just tell the others to shove off.

Soon, the three adults found the child out, like Prussia had thought, in the garden, playing with his dog. The moment the child realized he had visitors, Blackie growling at the strangers, the blue eyes went flat upon seeing France. Although Gilbert wasn't sure, it looked as though Ludwig whispered something to the dog, but before he could be sure, like a bullet, Blackie was charging towards France, growling and barking savagely.

The blonde nation yelped, and jumped up on the stone bench in a vain attempt to get out of reach of the fully grown dog. "Control this beast!" he cried, grabbing the albino to put in between himself and the animal.

Spain stepped out of the way, completely unconcerned, and rushed towards the boy, smiling brightly. "_¡Holla chiquito_! ¿_Cómo estás?_"

As Gilbert tried to deter the dog from ripping France apart, even though he didn't really want to, Ludwig stood blinking at the beaming Spaniard. "_Ich bin gut, danke_," he nodded slowly, apparently having a harder time remembering his Spanish then the other languages he'd learned. In the back of his mind, Gilbert knew he would have to review it again so that his brother was once again as fluent with it as he had been in the past.

But before Ludwig could even ask after the other nation how he was doing, Spain, despite all the growling and barking of Blackie and the yelling from Prussia and France behind him, the tanned nation knelt down and gathered the blonde child in his arms, squeezing him tight. "¡_Qué lindo!_" he gushed. "You look so cute in your little uniform! _¡Eres adorable!_" he continued to crush the child in his arms. "Why didn't I ever think to dress Lovi in one of my uniforms?"

"_Spanien!_" Gilbert barked. "Let go of my brother! Blackie, you stupid mutt, would you STOP!"

Looking rather reluctant, Spain put down the child carefully, still kneeling beside the blonde, while Ludwig looked a bit shocked by the sudden show of affection from an almost complete stranger. Adjusting his helmet back into place, the child scowled, which elicited a quiet "_Gordito_~" from Spain. Straightening his coat indignantly, the boy whistled three quick, sharp commands and instantly, Blackie set to work.

The dog looked to be sitting down, and the moment Gilbert saw this, he relaxed. But apparently Ludwig had trained his dog better than that. Blackie didn't sit down, but instead was just getting ready to jump and spring at his target. Instinctively, the Prussian moved out of the way, but that left France alone and an open target. Seeing the canine flying towards him, it didn't take the blonde long to figure out that he had to get out of there.

As France began a swift retreat down the hall, Blackie chasing him, despite starting off with the idea of being diplomatic, Prussia couldn't help but start laughing as he watched. This was hilarious! He hadn't seen something this great in a long time. "Run _Hosenscheiβer, _run! _Kesesesesese!_"

Behind him, Spain gasp. "_Prusia_!" he cried, clasping his hands over Ludwig's ears, much to the boy's embarrassment and irritation. "You shouldn't say such things in front of _chiquito!_"

Struggling out of Mediterranean nation's grasp, the blonde once more straightened his helmet before giving another whistle. At last, leaving France alone, Blackie came back to his master's side obediently. Spain eyed the dog for a moment before smiling again. "Aww, you have such a good _perro_! Can I pet him?"

Sitting down next to the other two, Gilbert couldn't help but be amused at all the faces his brother was making while eyeing the Spaniard, and he grinned at the blonde. "_Ja, _I guess you can," Ludwig shrugged.

Happily, Spain began petting the dog carefully, and when it became apparent that Blackie wasn't going to hurt him, he began petting him a little rougher, really scratching behind his ears. "Aww, you're such a good boy, aren't you? He's a beautiful dog," he smiled at the boy.

Ludwig positively beamed, looking extremely proud of his dog. "_Danke schön_. _Bruder _got him for me several years ago."

"What a good _hermano mayor_! That was nice of you, _Prusia."_

"That's just because I'm awesome," Prussia sat back, winking at Ludwig. The boy decided to go sit beside his brother, away from the touchy Spaniard's reach while the brunette was still distracted with Blackie.

Scratching the happy dog, Spain smiled over at the two Germans as a silence fell over them all, France nowhere in sight. "You know, while we're alone, I would speak to you if I could, Prussia."

Eyeing the once powerful empire, the albino nodded. "_Ja_, go ahead."

For a moment, it looked as though Spain wouldn't say anything with Ludwig around, but then smiled nervously. "Well, I'm sure you're aware of my…situation, and how I'm in need of a new monarch."

"Sure," Gilbert nodded carefully. "I know that."

"Well," Spain went on, looking a bit nervous. "I was wondering…does your _Rey_ Guillermo have any relative that he might allow to become _el rey de España?_"

As the shock stunned Prussia into silence, Ludwig looked confused, trying to figure out what was being said. As intelligent as the boy was, he seemed to understand what had been said, remembering his lessons, but he frowned. Tugging at his brother's sleeves until the red eyes met his own, he asked, "_Bruder_, whose 'Guillermo'?"

Clearing his throat, still taken aback, Gilbert looked back over to the green eyed nation warily. "He was referring to _König _Wilhelm," he explained patiently, ignoring his brother's astonishment for a moment, focusing solely on the Spaniard. "Is that really what you're asking, _Spanien_?"

"¡_Sí, sí_! I am being serious," the tanned man said quickly, holding up his hands defensively. "Do you think you can help me? Do you think that your king will give me a relative to put on my throne?"

Although still a bit amazed, Gilbert couldn't have been more pleased with this latest development. This could be _exactly _what he and Bismarck had been looking for! How awesome did he look right now to his brother, when another nation was coming to him asking _him _for someone to put on their throne? This was it, this is what swayed people. This is what made small little nations want to join a bigger, more powerful nation.

Smirking cockily, Prussia sat back coolly. "Well, I'm not sure what _Köing _Wilhelmwill say, but I will surely pass the message along."

"Oh _sí, sí, _that's all I ask, _amigo_," Spain nodded encouragingly. "If you could mention it to your government, to your king, I would appreciate it."

There was no way to measure Gilbert's ego at that moment as it was so large. For all of his life, Prussia had been struggling, fighting to be recognized as a great and powerful nation, a nation that others would envy, would want the blood of his rulers. Now it had happened, at last. And this was just the beginning, Gilbert knew it.

Looking down at his brother's wide blue eyes, the albino couldn't help but smirk once more. How awesome did he look right now? How very awesome did everyone think he was? Spain was sitting their begging him for a king after he saw how adorable his brother was and how great a guard dog Germans really had, while West got to hear just how influential the Prussians were becoming. This was probably the best thing that could have happened to him.

As the three personifications stayed out in the summer air, talking and watching all the tricks Blackie could perform, they didn't notice that someone else had overheard the conversation and was not as excited as the others were about these potential arrangements, as he walked away to go inform his government of all that he'd heard.

* * *

**Author's Note: **One step closer to Unification! :D …and I couldn't help but put Ludwig in a uniform as a little kid. I love uniforms, and it's especially adorable on children. :P Just imagining sweet little Ludwig in this chapter gave me diabetes. For realz.

**History: **Not a lot of German/Prussian in here, but you all might need a little Spanish history. So, Queen Isabella II of Spain was basically queen since her birth, and her rule was always in great dispute. So, after the "Glorious Revolution of 1868" the queen officially abdicated the throne in June of 1870. So, looking for a royal to put on the throne, the Spanish noticed the Prussians being all awesome and doing very well for themselves. Impressed with the Prussians, the Spanish asked if one of King Wilhelm's relatives would become King of Spain.

While this looks flattering, the Prussians are understandably wary when considering this, especially when they took the French into account. While ultimately the Prussians would decline the offer, they didn't really make it public, which of course, gave the French the wrong idea, and bah-da bing, bah-da boom! You have the Franco-Prussian War, 1870.

**Spanish: **While I assume most of my readers know Spanish, or enough of it to get the jest of this, for those who do not: _Holla chiquito_! – Hello little boy (roughly. _Chiquito _is an endearment, and I think of it like "little guy") ¿_Cómo estás? _– how are you? _Qué lindo- _(lit) How pretty (just another endearment that came be used for children) _¡Eres adorable!- _You're adorable! _Gordito- _(lit) Little fatty (it's like saying that a little kid is so sweet and cute…and I'm not 100% sure if it's used by those in Spain, but I know it is here in the west…but in any case, I think it's cute and I've called little kids "little fatty" before…but even if it's not used so much in Europe, just pretend Spain picked it up from his settlements in South America ;) ) _hermano mayor- _big brother. _Perro- _dog. _el rey de España- _the King of Spain.

**German: **Ummm…you should know it all, but encase you didn't understand: _Hosenscheiβer_ – (lit) pants shitter (like calling someone a "coward" XD ) and a _pickelhaube _is a picklehelm, which if you don't know what that is, is one of those spiked helmets.

'**Nother Author's Note: **Okay, so there was a picture done by Himaruya of little Germany in a pickelhaube standing protectively behind Prussia as he talked to Austria, and the moment I saw it, I fell in love. So I hope I could give you a little piece of adorableness in this as well. :) Drop me a review on the way out, as always. Thanks everyone!


	30. Chapter 26: Lachen und Weinen

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Lachen und Weinen**

**July 1870**

It wasn't long before rumors of Spain's proposal to acquire a Prussian king on his throne spread around Europe like wild fire, and it wasn't long before the French were once again wary of the German Kingdom of Prussia. Almost every day since coming back from the meeting along the Rhine, France had sent letter after letter to Prussia, inquiring about the kingship offered from Spain. It was no secret that the blonde nation was worried about such a possibility, even jealous of it, and he would not stand to have such an alliance formed between the German speaking world and the Spanish. Not again. It had been hard enough for France when the Hapsburgs ruled from both Spain and Austria, the thought of a united German nation was terrifying.

But while his brother argued on with France, Ludwig watched all this with growing concern. He hadn't been feeling well again lately, and he had noticed that his limbs seemed to be growing little by little. Every night, as he tried to sleep, his body ached so fiercely he thought he was being pulled apart by demons. He did not want to trouble his brother over the matter, but one night it had been so terrible, he had called out to the albino, crying. Gilbert had told him it was just growing pains, that he was finally maturing into an adult, but even the knowledge of finally becoming big, hopefully as big and powerful as his brother, couldn't brighten the blonde's attitude. He was in agony, and he was sick, and there was nothing that anyone could do for him.

Although the blonde never complained to his brother about it again, especially when France's queries became increasingly annoying and taxing on Prussia, Ludwig knew his brother was not fooled by his silence. He was put back on constant bed rest, with only Blackie as company most of the time. The pain the German felt was actually so bad that for once, he didn't complain about having to stay in bed, and just laid there, wishing that he would die.

At nights, Gilbert would come in Ludwig's room to work on his mounting paper work and keep the boy company. The blonde was sad that his brother could not focus all of his attention on him, but he also understood that his brother was a growing power in the world and he needed to focus on working to run his kingdom. So, for the most part, Ludwig remained silent as his brother labored, just glad to be in the presence of the albino and not having to be completely alone. To fill his own time and have something to do other than stare at his brother, the blonde would read, or look over the business his own people entrusted to him, though it was never much. And so it became a sort of routine for the two to work together in silence.

It was nice.

One day, however, when Prussia had come home to have lunch with his brother, Bismarck came by to pay them a visit. Although both personifications were surprised, Prussia greeted his Chancellor amiably.

"Bismarck," the albino stood, smiling with his hand out for shaking, as the human who seemed to be in a contemplative mood. "What brings you here?"

The human looked up, but past his own personification to stare at the blonde sitting up in bed. Ludwig felt his face get hot under the intense gaze he was receiving from the human, but said nothing, trying not to stare back. The boy had a very uncomfortable feeling that, because of Bismarck, something was going to happen to his brother very soon. He hoped that wasn't the case.

Without a word, the Chancellor handed Prussia a telegram. Silently, Prussia took it and read it through. Once he was finished, Ludwig noticed his brother's scowl and the outraged gleam in his eyes. "You can't be serious," he stared at Bismarck, demanding answers from the man.

"This is perfectly serious," the human nodded, that mischievous twinkle in his hard eyes, making the boy a little uncomfortable. "This was unseen and could be rather unfortunate…though it doesn't have to be. Do you know what this _could_ mean?"

"That I'm going to have to go west and kick France's ass harder than I did in 1815?" Gilbert snorted, crossing his arms.

A wicked smile passed over Bismarck's lips, causing Ludwig to wince, as he nodded. "Perhaps in time," he encouraged. "But I believe the French have gone too far this time. Harassing our nation and our king? It's outrageous. The people must know about this, _Preuβen_. They need to be informed about what is happening."

"What is happening?" Ludwig asked, unable to stand being left out of the loop. He was Prussian territory, in part, and he deserved to know the endeavors of his older brother… didn't he? He wanted to be informed in case something happened, so he could prepare himself.

The two Prussians looked at each other before they both stalked over to the bed, each sitting on either side of Ludwig, making the boy feel nervous, as though he were being hunted by wolves. "You see _Deutschland_," Bismarck began casually as the two personifications started at the name said, that oh-so desired name that was always just out of their reach. "The French sent their ambassador to harass our king, making outrageous demands that he give up the crown the Spanish have so graciously offered to our beloved king."

Ludwig stared in amazement. "They harassed the king?" He couldn't get the disbelief out of his tone. "I thought he was on a vacation?"

"That's just it, West," Gilbert spoke up, his red eyes now bright and dancing, like a child's at the sight of sweets. "King Wilhelm _was _on holiday. The French were harassing him at Bad Ems."

"And it wasn't just harassment and their _demands_," Bismarck picked up. "They _threatened _our king, that should he not accept their outrageous and unnecessary demands, they would go to war with Prussia."

The blonde looked at both men, staring at them with his heart racing in his chest. "War?" he breathed, outraged and frightened at the same time. "But why?"

"Because they're intimidated by my awesomeness," Gilbert flashed his brother a smirk before turning back to the chancellor. "You have permission to publish this?"

"By the king himself," the human nodded. "This is just what we've been waiting for, _Preuβen_," another wicked grin found its way to the man's face. "If I were to guess the situation, I'd say you don't have to wait very much longer." Gilbert's face took on an awed expression, as though truly realizing the implication of the human's words.

Ludwig, on the other hand, frowned, not understanding the almost code-like quality of Bismarck's words. The blonde looked between his brother and the chancellor, before the human stood. "I must see to publishing arrangements," he said simply. "I will come to talk to you again soon, _Preuβen_." He turned towards Ludwig. "Take care of yourself," he nodded politely, yet Ludwig could see the very real glimmer of trouble in his eyes that refused to go away. "We will see each other again in the very near future, _Deutschland_."

With that, Bismarck was gone, leaving the two brothers once again in silence. A beat later, Gilbert threw back his head and began laughing, loud and long. Ludwig stared at him as though he were crazy, not at all finding anything humorous with the situation, but waited quietly for his brother to finish. Blackie jumped up on the bed, no doubt wanting to see what all the excitement was about.

Once his brother was relatively quiet, the blonde decided that perhaps it was his time to speak up. "_Bruder_?" he asked. "What's going on? What don't you have to wait long for?" A horrifying thought came to him. "You're not really going to go to war with France!…Are you?"

The albino stared at the younger nation for a moment, oddly. "Why shouldn't I? You don't like him."

"I don't like him," Ludwig agreed, "but that doesn't mean you should provoke anything!" The Prussian looked confused. "Remember the last war you fought against him?"

"_Ja_, I kicked his ass and handed it back to him on a silver platter," Gilbert snorted.

"_Nein_, not at first," the boy pressed, wishing that for once his brother would listen to his reason. "It took a long time for you to defeat France back then, and you only did with everyone else's help."

"Are you doubting my awesomeness?" Prussia scowled, stiffening with offense.

Ludwig sighed, wondering why it seemed that he was the more logical of the two at the moment. "That's not what I mean. It's just… it took eight _years _before I ever saw you again, _Bruder_…I don't want that to happen again," he admitted.

At last, the albino's face took on a pitying expression. "This'll be different, West. It won't be like Napoleon the First."

"But how do you _know_?" the blonde stressed. "What if—"

"Enough of this!" the red-eyed nation growled. "Didn't I train you better than this? You are to follow the orders of your superiors and not question their decisions."

"But I'm not under your control," Ludwig uncharacteristically challenged. "At least not all the way. And this isn't about training or business, this is personal. I…I don't want you to go fight with France. You've already been fighting a whole lot lately, and…well, what if other countries begin to fear that you're becoming too aggressive? You know what they said about that at the Congress of Vienna."

Prussia took on a thoughtful expression, as though he were just then recalling all that had been said back then. "_Ja_," he nodded slowly. "But they can't get angry with me if I am merely protecting myself against other hostile nations."

A sick feeling started seeping into the boy's stomach as he realized just how crafty his older brother was. Gilbert was an aggressive state, had been since the time of the Great Elector, but his cunning had since grown, expanded into something truly genius since his first steps into the world as a confident, semi-militaristic state. Prussia had learned hard lessons throughout his life, but he had learned them well. The albino knew how to bend the rules, knew how to skim around the edges of indecency and unacceptability. Ludwig understood his brother's intentions now clearly, could see the plans he had been making over the years, he and the wily Bismarck.

"Rest up, West," Gilbert stood, smiling down at his brother, as though there was nothing wrong. As though everything was perfect. "You're probably going to need it."

And with that, the boy watched his brother disappear out the door. Cold dread settled over the blonde and he felt a surge of panic nearly overwhelm him. And yet, there was something else there, something that by all right should not have been: excitement.

As he stared out into the darkness of the hall, Ludwig realized he was in for a long, complicated period of hurt soon.

**oOoOoOo**

It wasn't long before France issued a formal declaration of war. Personally. The blonde had come to Berlin himself to give the albino nation the news as well as a good fist in the face. Of course Prussia couldn't have taken that without giving it right back. Only worse. And so the two long-time rivals had gone at each other like bears, clawing and punching each other senseless. Gilbert regretted none of it, however, as he managed to send the other nation away with a limp, and it hadn't been a minute before France left that he rushed straight to Bismarck to prepare for the war.

Gilbert had been too wound up, too excited, to clean up his wounds, and so he went home with his torn clothes and split lip. He had shut himself away in his study to begin his planning and coming up with the best possible ways kick France's ass. He was so focused on his task that he didn't hear much of anything else going on around him, not even when his brother had tried to ask him what was going on.

"This is it," the albino kept muttering to himself as he studied his map of the German states and France. "This is it."

He was so absorbed in plotting out routes to get into France and seize the capitol that he didn't notice the door of his private study crack open, or hear the soft call from behind. "I could go straight in," he mused, looking between his two maps spread out and his list of troops and supplies. "Bastard would never suspect _that_." He chuckled darkly, his twisted mind coming up with all sorts of nasty possibilities for the other nation.

"_Bruder_?"

Scowling down at the reports Bismarck had given him about the French army, Gilbert had to admit, France was not weak. Granted, the French probably had more man power—though the albino wouldn't put it past the blonde to boast and lie about his numbers—but Prussia was confident that his men were better soldiers, better trained. All throughout history his people had proven themselves to be of a tenacious, stubborn breed, ones that weren't easily pushed around and tread over. Time and time again the Prussian people had proven to be patient and sturdy, reliable and clever. France might have more men, but Prussia's men were simple more awesome.

"_Bruder_?"

There were so many possibilities of how he could _destroy _France, but what could he do to piss him off the most? The thought of burning down Paris sounded particularly enticing at the moment, like he _should _have been allowed to do in 1814 if Russia hadn't stopped him. Or maybe he could ransack Versailles? That would be fun and profitable…but Bismarck and certainly Wilhelm wouldn't go for it, even if it _was_ advantageous.

"Oh _Gott_!" Gilbert cried as an idea struck him. Just because he probably wouldn't be allowed to go into his old Teutonic rage like he used to, didn't mean he couldn't humiliate France once he _won_. If he could march through to Paris, push to Versailles, he could still use that grandiose palace to his advantage to disgrace that elaborate waste of a nation.

"_Bruder_!"

The albino's attention was at last obtained, and he flinched, startled, and he turned around to see his little brother standing in the door way, holding Gilbird to his chest protectively, with tears streaming down his wide blue eyes. At first, Gilbert's first reaction was to smile upon sight of the little blonde, but seeing those tears instantly stopped any joy the Prussian had at seeing his brother. "West, what's—?"

Before Prussia could have gotten anything else out, his found himself with an armful of West, the growing little would-be nation clinging to him desperately. It made the albino's heart lurch in fear, sympathy, and pity. It took the older German several moments before he came to terms with what had happened and wrapped his arms around the sobbing blonde.

"West, what's wrong?" he demanded, pulling the boy away from him so that he could see the child's face and look him over. "Are you in a lot of pain? Where does it hurt? What the hell are you doing out of bed to begin with?" As his worry mounted, so did his temper.

But being angry with Ludwig was like trying to hate a puppy, those big eyes staring up at him so adoringly and lovingly, that it would take a truly horrendous son of a bitch to ignore and break the little thing's heart. And so, with each tear that fell from those crystal blues added to Gilbert's own sorrow and pain on his brother's behalf.

"I-I called for y-you when you got h-home," the child explained, rubbing at his eyes viciously, as though embarrassed that he had been reduced to tears in front of his brother. "But you nev-ver answered back. And n-now you're hurt and-and it was France, wasn't it?"

It might have been funny to watch an albino blanch, but thankfully for Gilbert's sake, Ludwig wasn't much in a laughing mood. It took the Prussian a moment before he remembered that he was still scrapped up from his miniature brawl with France. For the first time in his life, Gilbert cursed his insensitivity—not that he'd ever really believed he'd _ever _been insensitive before. But he had known what a fragile state Ludwig was in since the recent bouts of war that seemed to break out ever couple of years, knew that the child was suffering from being torn in half. Scaring the blonde had _never _crossed the albino's mind.

"W-West, I'm fine! I'm fine, see?" he asked, taking the boy's shoulders in his hands, fighting the urge to shake him in his own distress to make the boy understand and stop crying. He hated it when his brother cried. "It was nothing, I was just…preoccupied. I just didn't hear you."

The boy, despite his seemingly young age and lapses into childlike maturity, he was shockingly intelligent and advanced in his mental functions. So when the blonde's eyes narrowed, all innocence and fear in his features seemed to disappear as he stared at his brother, almost glaring. For the first time in his life, Gilbert felt unnerved by his brother's gaze. As the Holy Roman Empire, West had perfected his glare of utter hatred and loathing, could freeze a man, a personification, four times his height and hundreds of years his senior. But even when West wasn't glaring, his eyes portrayed a coldness that could make a priest squirm with guilt and discomfort. Unfortunately, it seemed his brother had retained this strange talent of his, but even more unfortunate was the fact that he was directing that suspicious, guilt-inducing stare at him now.

"What were you thinking of?" the boy asked slowly, though Gilbert had a good feeling that the boy already knew the answer.

"I was just—Well, you see, Bismarck…"

The blonde looked over his brother's shoulders to the desk and his eyes widening. "No!" he cried, grabbing a hold of his brother again desperately. "No, please don't, _Bruder_!"

Sighing, Gilbert hugged his brother back, trying to get him to loosen his hold around his neck so he could breathe properly again. "West, you need to understand that—"

"No," he boy shook his head vehemently. "Please don't fight with France! Y-you can't!"

"West."

"He'll hurt you and he'll take me away again!" the child sobbed. "I can't survive if you leave! Please don't fight! You can't! You won't win—"

Something inside of Gilbert snapped then. Perhaps it was the stress of the situation, all the stakes riding on if he could beat France again, only this time, alone. Maybe it was the lack of faith he was receiving from the one creature in the world that had always truly, deeply believed in him and cared for him. Maybe it was the guilt he felt for causing such heartache and angst in his baby brother. Whatever the reason—or combination of them all— the albino scowled, finding himself annoyed with the tears. He had been trying to teach Ludwig to be tough, to be a man, and ever since the boy had lapsed into illness, he'd gone soft on the blonde. Well, if the boy was going to be part of _his _empire, he was going to have to grow up…He _had _to make those tears go away!

Pulling the child out of his arms, the Prussian scowled down at his brother, meeting the beautiful blue eyes with his own fiery red. "_Hör mal zu_, _Westen_," he growled, holding his brother away from him at arm's length. "Is this any way for a soldier to behave? Is it?" he snapped when he received no immediate reply.

"_Nein_," the boy answered quickly. "Sir," he added quickly.

"That's right," Gilbert frowned, standing up to tower over the child. "A proper soldier would be eager about the prospect of going to war, of fighting for his beliefs and nation. Are you a coward?"

"No!" the boy cried. "But _Bruder_—"

"I'm not finished speaking!" the albino shouted. "I gave you an order to stay in your bed. I gave you an order to _never _argue with me. You had asked me to help make you strong, and this is the thanks I get? You breaking my orders and crying?"

"I-I didn't mean to be ungrateful!" Ludwig's eyes began welling up with those damned tears again, and suddenly he looked very small and pathetic. "I'm…I'm not a coward, but I just don't want you to go! France is really menacing. Remember how long it took to defeat him last time?"

Eight years. Actually, it had taken longer, but it had been eight years between the supposed death of Holy Roman Empire and the renewal and awakening of the German States as a collective that Gilbert remembered the most. Those terrible, long years of when his brother had been taken away from him had been the worst in the albino's life, easily. Every night lying awake knowing that he could have, _should _have been able to help his brother, but hadn't…

"This time's different, West," Gilbert frowned, trying to fight back the memories. "This time, I'm prepared. France caught me at a time of peace when my military was small and inactive, but this time, I'm ready. This war won't last long. It'll hardly count as a conflict."

"But _Bruder_!" Ludwig cried. "What if—!"

"No!" the albino snarled, refusing to believe that there was a possibility of his defeat. "Get back to your room, Ludwig," he ordered sternly. "You're sick and I have no desire to see you faint today."

The boy's face crumpled, but thank the Almighty he didn't begin crying again. He was probably too shocked. It was, after all, the first time he'd been yelled at by his brother like this. So, after standing looking up at the elder German dumbly for another moment, the blonde nodded before turning and walking away, casting one last haunted glance over his shoulder as he went.

It was only when the door closed behind the child that Gilbert's legs gave out and he sat down hard in his seat. It hurt to know that he'd upset his brother, had raised his voice to the angelic child, but he had, and in that moment, he had thought it had been for the best. And…wasn't it? Surely West understood that all this, the wars, the conflict with France, was for _him_? It was for _them_? All of this fighting was so that they could be together at last, after sixty-four _years_!

Hardening his heart was difficult, but Gilbert managed. He had done it before, and he knew he could do it again. This was all for the best, he knew that, and if West didn't, he would soon. Sometimes it hurt to do the necessary but that didn't make it any less essential.

So the albino made his plans with Bismarck, and in three days time, he was ready to leave to fight his campaign against France. All the while, however, Ludwig begged him not to go. It might have been easier to ignore the pleas had not the boy fallen more seriously ill, this time worse that he had the time before. It was as though the blonde had done it on purpose just to delay his leaving.

"_Bruder_," the boy groaned in pain. "Please don't leave me," he whispered.

It was easy to see that the boy was truly in agony. He would break into terrible sweats and fevers, tossing constantly in bed as though it caused him pain to even stay still though Gilbert _knew _it was painful to move. There was just too much unrest and nervous energy amongst the German states. It was frustrating to sit by and watch his brother in so much misery and being unable to help him, and even though he was loathed to leave the child, the selfish part of Gilbert was glad he'd be leaving soon, so that he wouldn't have to see the boy suffer needlessly, so that he could be out doing something other than worry.

Austria had once told Prussia that it was _his _fault that Ludwig was so ill, fighting for his very life. He had refused to believe it at first, dismissing it as a cruel attempt to mess with his mind in battle, but there was a wicked whisper of doubt in the back of his mind telling him that maybe it was true. After all, the German states didn't have time to settle and form much of a habit because of all the fighting recently, with Prussia in the center of it all, stirring it up despite never being the first to declare war.

A surge of pity coursed through the albino as he looked down upon his brother, but he tried to cover it. He wanted to run a hand through the boy's silky hair, even lifted his hand to do so, but stopped. What if he hurt the child with his touch? If this was really all his fault, should he be around Ludwig at all?

"Shhh, it'll be all right, West," he soothed. "It's just…growing pains."

The younger German cracked open one eye, it looking like a chip of ice that refused to melt as it was framed with the angry red all around it. For the first time since being Holy Roman Empire, Ludwig stared at his brother as though he were stupid, a feeling that Gilbert did not like at all. "Growing apart?" the child's voice had suddenly become hoarse, strained.

"Not while I'm around," the Prussian said defensively, hoping that he could give some of his confidence to his brother, to _make _the blonde understand that he would not fail him. Not this time. "I'm off to the French boarder. I've hired a maid to come care for you."

A pale, sweaty hand suddenly lurched out of the bed and grasped Gilbert's hand tightly. "Don't leave."

It wasn't a plea, a request, it was a demand. Shocked, the albino looked over at his brother to find that the child was trying to muster his infamous scowl. Despite how deathly pale and sickly the younger personification looked, which should have inspired sympathy instantly, it also inspired admiration. This was the boy that Gilbert had always know, the fiercely independent, aggressive empire that had housed some of the world's more volatile people, whose tempers could only _be_ tempered by compromise and giving until they were all satisfied. And that had been Holy Rome's folly, giving _too _much.

But Prussia had watched the fall of Holy Rome and learned from the mistakes that he had seen his brother make before. This time, Gilbert vowed that when _he _formed an empire with West, he would make certain that they stayed together. Forever. He would rule over the empire with strict rule, but also understanding. He would make the people proud to be _German_, not just Prussian or Bavarian or whatever else they had previously called themselves before. They were all _German_, and once he beat France, he would prove to the world his superiority and the superiority of the Germans.

With his resolve set, the albino peered down at the hand of his little brother and carefully pulled out of the weakened grip. Even though a part of him told him to stay, wanted to care for his brother, the stronger part knew this was all necessary. If West didn't understand this, then it only proved to the Prussian that Ludwig needed someone to help and rule over him. The boy was just too young.

"I'm going," Gilbert said bluntly as he stood up, peering down his nose at the child, willing the boy to submit to his will. "I'll be back soon. This war won't last long, and soon, you and I will be the leaders of the greatest nation in the world." He walked towards the door, ignoring the way Blackie growled after him, apparently sensing his master's distress. He paused at the frame and turned knowing he couldn't leave like this yet unwilling to back down. "Look after Gilbird for me, _ja_?"

The boy stared at his brother for a long moment, angry, scared, yet accepting. "_Ja_…Bavaria, Württemberg, and Baden are with you faithfully," his voice was incredibly dull sounding, but guttural. "Don't be afraid to trust them."

The albino nodded. "I know…Don't worry about me, West. Once I win, you'll get well."

The child scowled outright, even as the sweat kept running down his face. This was the stillest Gilbert had seen his brother in several days and it was actually unnerving considering how ill he was. "How can you assume you'll win?" he croaked out, willing to argue since his tears had dried up. "You should at least entertain a possibility of losing."

"Never," the Prussian said sternly. "I know I'll win because I am _awesome_. When I get back, you'll understand…Goodbye."

As he marched out of the room and began to descend the stairs a quiet, bitter, "_Auf Weidersehen_" followed after him

He slowed his stride a bit, had just a moment when he thought perhaps he should go back, but he found he just couldn't. West might feel a bit betrayed at the moment, but he would get over it once this was all over. The younger personification was already getting over it, already beginning to understand. Why else would he have mentioned the three states outside of the Northern German Confederation to put Prussia at ease? What would be the new empire understood, knew that this was necessary, but that human part of the boy was getting in the way, fighting progression. Ludwig was still young and reorganizing himself into a different state. He had less time to collect himself before being taken by war several times and changing his name quite often. But he was learning fast, and it was only the desire to win his brother over, give him a chance to become stable, that kept the albino on his path right out the door.

A soldier was there waiting for him patiently. Without a word, Gilbert got on his horse, swung his leg over carelessly, almost kicking the other man as he did so. The other didn't comment upon it, though, knowing better, and within a few minutes, the two Prussians rode off to meet up with the rest of the party.

He was off to war and victory.

**oOoOoOo**

**January 1871**

Gilbert wiped the sweat off his brow as he watched yet again as the artillery hammered away at Paris. It was just another day of the siege, nothing new had happened much. There were a few casualties here and there, but nothing compared to France's, and the men were starting to fall into a strange routine of firing and fighting with the French. It was tiring work to be sure, some of the men getting frustrated with the unnoticeable results, Gilbert included, but they had to keep up their hounding of the French. Men like Von Blumenthal thought it was immoral to keep at the French like this, but Prussia saw it as necessary, and so, he pushed the general into continuing the siege. They were so close, Gilbert could feel it!

Sighing, the albino sat down in his tent with his flask and took a quick shot to warm himself up from the freezing winter air before rubbing his face tiredly. Although he was still very set on this fight and not giving up, Gilbert couldn't help but be tired. He hadn't been home once since leaving in July, and this campaign against Paris had started in September. Because of that stubborn bastard France, he'd missed Christmas and spending precious time with Ludwig.

On the war front, Gilbert received very little mail that was not official business from Berlin or communiqué from the other German states that weren't in the Confederation. He had not received one letter from his brother personally, though his maid wrote several times, keeping the albino updated on his brother's condition. The woman had said that the boy was still very ill, usually sleeping seventeen hours a day because he just physically could not handle the strain of fighting when he was not only separated, but going to war at the same time. The only good news was, however, that despite being weak, Ludwig's pain had subsided quite a bit, and he didn't have nearly as many fits. Apparently his south working in tandem with the united north was good for him, just as Prussia had known it would.

Reaching over to take up his most recent letter, however, the nation scowled at it as he reread the news of his brother. Apparently West really had been having growing pains, as the maid commented upon it:

_He is growing everyday, _HerrPreuβen_, and although he is too weak to leave his bed, he asks for you often, asking about the war and the siege. He insists that once he is well enough to leave his bed he will ride out to meet you, and I do know if I will be able to stop him. _

If West left that bed before he sent for him, Gilbert was going to kill the boy. He had no desire to have a child to worry about on the battlefield again. When he had found out Ludwig had been out in the thick of battle when the Napoleonic Alliance had marched towards Paris and Russia had been the one to find him, the albino had nearly had a heart attack. The thought of his sweet baby brother out there in the middle of the cannon and guns fire, well, it was sufficient to say that he couldn't think of anything that scared him more. That maid wasn't getting paid to watch as Ludwig did something foolish! If she let him go, the least of her worries would not getting paid at all.

"_Herr Preuβen_?"

The albino snapped his head up to look at the soldier that had come in. The interruption was unwanted and annoying, making the nation feel oddly exposed having been caught in his private musing, but seeing how rundown the young man looked stayed the albino's tongue. He couldn't get angry with one of his men, not after so many months of thus far fruitless siege. "_Ja_, what is it?" he asked, stuffing his letter into his jacket pocket.

"General Von Blumenthal wishes to speak to you in his tent, _mein Herr_."

Taking another quick swig from his flask, Prussia stood and made his way to his general, but not before patting the soldier on the shoulder on his way out. Upon entering into Von Blumenthal's tent, the personification was met with a rather shocking sight of France and a few other French soldiers. It was such an unexpected event that Gilbert had to fight with himself not to take a step back.

"Well, well, well, what is this?" he smirked as he walked out of the winter air to stalk the prey that had so willingly wandered within his camp. "Come to beg for food have we?" he crossed his arms over his chest casually. "Got tired of eating zoo animals?"

Instantly insulted, as the albino knew he would be, France took a threatening step forward, as though wanting to beat the other nation into a pulp, but was stopped by a hand from his general landing forcibly on his shoulder. "_Bonjour_, _Monsieur Prusse_," the general nodded towards the albino. "We are here to negotiate an armistice."

Gilbert was surprised into silence, and he just stared at his enemies for a long moment, unsure of what to do. He looked at von Blumenthal and then over to France, who would no longer meet his gaze. "'Armistice'?" he repeated carefully.

"_Oui_," another one of the Frenchmen nodded rather gravely. "We…can no longer keep up this siege. The people are starving, they're dying, and there is really no point in dragging this out anymore."

"We ask for a ceasefire now and admit…admit that Prussia is the stronger," the first man sighed. "Perhaps we can talk out a settlement?"

Von Blumenthal and his nation shared a look once more, before the albino found his knees were starting to shake. "You're surrendering?" he asked, unable to keep the quiver of excitement from his voice.

"_Non_!" France snapped. "We merely asked for a…a settlement, a chance to negotiate."

"Because you have no other choice," Gilbert pressed, smiling nastily.

The blonde nation turned away, scowling darkly.

Knowing that he had gotten to his enemy, the albino starting stalking around his enemy again, nervous, excited energy coursing through him. "What's the matter, _Frankreich_? Tired of feasting upon rats? Can't make them taste good?" he mocked.

"_Tais-toi_!" the blonde snapped.

"Why don't we all sit down and discuss like _civilized _men what to do," Von Blumenthal suggested not unkindly, sending a glare his personification's way. And that's just what everyone in the tent did.

Several hours later found the Prussians and the French walking out into the bitter winter air, the French wearing grim expressions while the Prussians fought to keep a neutral appearance. They French unwillingly shook hands before they rode off, back to Paris. As he watched them go, all of the restlessness within Prussia suddenly bubbled to the surface and he squirmed.

The soldiers standing by their nation, frowned in worry. "Sir, what's the matter?" one asked, confused as to what had happened as he had not been privy to the meeting.

Unable to stop himself, Gilbert turned to face the small crowd of men that had suddenly come around him. He smiled at them all, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Prussia looked into the faces of all of his men, beaming in pride and joy before he burst out laughing, loud and long, his voice seeming to echo through the crisp air and to carry into Paris itself. "We did it!" he exclaimed throwing his hands into the air. "_I _did it! I _won_!"

Hearing the good news, it having been impossible not to have heard it, from all over the camp shouts of victory rose up along with their nation's. There were cheers, laughter, singing of the anthem in a burst of patriotic pride seemed to course through the entire Prussian encampment.

Feeling such love, utter loyalty and adulation from his men nearly made the albino dizzy as he laughed along with his men as he raised his voice into song along with them. The longer it went on, the more drunk Gilbert became with the praise being shamelessly thrust upon him. "I DID IT!" he cried over and over again, as men cheered him on more.

Stumbling back to his tent that night, Gilbert hastily lit a candle, his hands shaking, as he dug around his desk, desperately trying to find paper. When he couldn't find a fresh sheet, he hastily pulled out the paper from his front pocket, the letter he'd received from the maid caring for Ludwig, and turned it over. He rapidly began writing a message back to his brother as fast as his hand was capable before calling for a messenger, commanding him to rush it to Berlin.

Once that was taken care of, and he was alone, listening to the joyous sounds of his soldiers, Gilbert allowed the tears he had been fighting since the French had left to fall. He wasn't sure he had ever cried quite like this before, as they were not angry, bitter, or sad tears, but tears of the purest joy and contentment. He began laughing again and he couldn't stop himself, couldn't control it. He laughed and cried until his head hurt, until his sides felt as though they would split open.

_He had done it_! After over sixty years of fighting, after over sixty years of heartache and suffering, he had finally done it! There were no other contenders, there was no one else to stop him now! He had proven himself to be the mightiest nation in Europe. He had proven his awesome greatness.

And now, West was all his.

* * *

**Author's Note:**…Well hello again, everyone! Sorry for not updating in forever, but I needed a little time off. ^^" This last semester was hard to research this when I had so many other history classes that all crossed and I didn't want to confuse THIS history and it's events and people with others from earlier history for my classes, that I just took a bit of a break. ^^" Last semester was easier to write this since my class was basically talking about everything my story was so…yeah. Summer time now, so it should be easier to update again. :) Sorry for not being around.

**History: **In July of 1870, France, being the paranoid nation that it was, declared war with Prussia, because it couldn't afford to have strong German neighbors, and they feared Prussia taking control of the rest of the German states. Prussia, who had been waiting for this opportunity to rouse patriotic feelings of nationality among the German states even outside of the Northern German Confederation to make France look as terrible as they could and went to war since it looked like France was the one picking on them for no reason. Bismarck had events posted in the papers, but don't think he planned for this, he didn't, he just used war with France in a very productive manner.

Both sides believed that they would be victory, but the French were a little too confident and underestimated the Prussians severely. It was actually quite easy to see who the victory would be, as the Prussians won several important battles early in the war, but France wouldn't give up, even when Napoleon III and 104,00 men were captured on the 1 and 2 of September, which resulted in the French kicking him out of office and forming the Third French Republic. The Prussians, however, continued their march until they were in Paris and launched as siege of the city until January of 1871. (Fun Fact!) The siege was so terrible, that the people of Paris actually had to kill and eat their zoo animals. At last, an armistice was called, but I'll leave the rest of the concluding history for next chapter.

**German: **_Lachen und Weinen_- Laughing and Crying (also the name of a song written by Shubert written 1822- I sang this song this semester and got an "A" on it. Yay happy-ish German! :D ) _Hör mal zu-_ Listen! (it's actually more like saying, "Shut up and listen because I'm only going to tell you this once)

**French: **_Tais-toi- _Shut up!

'**Nother Note: **Next up the OFFICAIL Unification of Germany and the formal creation of the Second German Empire! (the first having been the Holy Roman Empire), so there will be lots of Ludwig again for everyone to see. :)


	31. Chapter 27: Gott Mit Uns

~For Nekofye: Happy (slightly late) Birthday!~

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: **_**Gott Mit Uns**_

**January 1871**

Gilbert walked around the Palace of Versailles with a smile that he just couldn't get rid of plastered on his pale face. The longer he stayed, the more he couldn't believe that he was actually _here_, in the heartland of France, marching through the streets like a king. The armistice hadn't been in affect long, but all the albino could do was laugh. He had sent word to King Wilhelm and Bismarck, and the two were currently on their way for the coronation of the king as the first _German_ _Emperor_. The thought made the Prussian giddy; he could hardly stand still a minute.

Along with dispatching letters to his leaders, the kingdom also sent word to his brother. Rumor had it that the boy had already been on his way to France before Gilbert's letter had a change to arrive in Berlin, but being too drunk in the euphoria of his victory, Prussia had not cared much for his brother's disobedience this time. After all, if the letter was intercepted half way, that just meant West would be arriving sooner. _That _was a very pleasant thought, especially since the albino had not seen his little brother in almost a year. The coronation, too, could take place sooner, as the elder German would not have it done without West present.

Walking through the Hall of Mirrors, Gilbert couldn't help but become excited over the prospect of seeing Ludwig again. He could just picture it, the little blonde running towards him, a big smile on his face, and he would jump into Gilbert's arms, laughing and crying, thanking him for all of his hard work, for never giving up, and for winning over all of the German states. The albino was still smug over how the southern states had petitioned to become part of the awesomeness that was Prussia, especially Bavaria. He couldn't help but hope his past rival was rolling over in his grave.

Laughing to himself, the Prussian decided to take another turn around the gardens outside. It was cold, true, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to stay indoors. Despite the armistice, there was still fighting going on between his people and the French. Stupid rebels didn't know when to quit and admit that they had lost. A part of him was nervous about it, but in the end, he didn't much care. He had _won_ his true prize, after all, having finally gained claim over the German states at long last. Of course, it would be a real treat and well deserved slap in the face to France if he could get Alsace and Lorraine out of the endeavor as well, but the main thing was he had won the Germans; had won _West_.

And when he got home, Gilbert decided that the first thing he should do was rub it in Poland's face. That little bastard had tried to caused him trouble in the east during his campaign against France, wholly useless in the Prussian's opinion since there had been nothing to stop his awesomeness, but still, it would be good to gloat a little to everyone, not just Poland. He was seriously considering taking a tour around his neighbors to show off himself and West, show the other nations that he had won and that he was a real force to be reckoned with. He had been pushed around too much in the past, and now it was time for everyone to pay. With the added strength of West behind him, there was nothing to stop Prussia now.

The cold winter air was fresh and crisp against the albino's face, and he couldn't help sighing in contentment. This wasn't Prussian air, to be sure, but it was the air of his defeated rival, and Prussia imagined that he could truly smell the sorrow and despondency that reeked off the French. How delicious.

Still smirking, the albino walked around by himself for once not at all saddened by the fact that he was alone. He wished he had his awesome little bird with him, but he had left his pet with West to keep the boy company, and as insurance that he would return, so he wasn't too upset by his lack of pet. But being so completely alone as he was at the moment calmed Gilbert. A strange sort of peace flowed through him despite knowing that there were still rebellions, that there was still a lot of work to do. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he had succeeded, that he had finally accomplished what he had longed to do for truly over hundreds of years.

Growing up the eldest son, Prussia had always know it was his duty to watch over his younger brother, but that did not stop the bitterness he'd felt at watching Holy Roman Empire become so much greater than him, controlling so much land when Prussia had been next to nothing, barely able to support himself agriculturally. In the human world, the eldest son was bequeathed the most, yet it seemed that the blessed birthright had slipped through his fingers to be given to Gerwig, the one who turned his back on _Vater _and all of his teachings, the one who drove out the remain of Germania, sped up the great warrior's death, before rushing through the land with his knights, enforcing the laws of Christianity, before watching and helping to create France.

True, Holy Rome's golden years did not last long, his decline had been rather rapid before he stabilized into a sick, weak confederation with too many personifications to please, but that was besides the point. Gilbert had felt cheated by _Vater_ when he was younger, always believing that Gerwig had been the favorite. And what older brother wouldn't feel bitter against their younger brother who brought his knights and slaughtered all of his elder sibling's people, nearly destroying everything and almost killing him before giving the ultimatum of "Become part of the Holy Roman Empire or perish"? It was understandable that Prussia had resented his brother after that, had not felt bad causing trouble for the blonde when he could. What kind of brother nearly killed you before dressing you in new, strange garb and sending you off to fight for others within and outside of the empire so casually?

But in defense of West, he had been young then, too young to know what he was supposed to do. He had control over so much land, land full of hostile, rowdy people, that it was an overwhelming task even for most of the older nations. Germania had vanished from the world rather rapidly, leaving the young Gerwig alone and guessing with what he had to do. It was understandable that he had turned to force in order to keep the peace. But even as understandable as it was, that didn't make it right, and it hadn't made the Prussian feel any better.

It had taken years for the two brothers to reconcile with one another. Eventually, Gilbert had grown into the role his brother had bequeathed upon him, taken to the Teutonic Knights like a fish to water. It had helped shaped the albino into who he was today. The titled of Teutonic State had helped him as his land was pathetic for growing crops, and even though Gerwig had had so many other personifications to worry about, he had still tried his hardest to please his blood brother, make up for his harsh treatment in his early years of reigning. When he wasn't hearing the bickering of the other Germans states or trying to win over Italy Veneziano, Holy Rome was with the albino.

It wasn't the most perfect relationship, even after the Teutonic Order State had been dissolved into the Duchy of Prussia, but Gerwig had given Gilbert an elector. And it was from the power of having an elector that had given the Prussian a real footing in the politics of the German speaking world. And it was because of the line of electors that one day, the albino had a chance of being great.

Having the Elector of Brandenburg had been rather handy when France and Austria had been fighting over the possession of the Holy Roman Empire, and it had been with Friedrich Wilhelm that Prussia had gone to the meeting and began to shine. Friedrich Wilhelm held a special place in Gilbert's heart, much like the Great Elector's great grandson, Old Fritz. Not only had the Great Elector picked the right family to side with in the fighting, but he had stopped the Swedish from ravaging through Prussia, had created order in the state by creating a large military, had gain real power, and had set up his son to be the first King in Prussia. Sure, Friedrich Wilhelm probably would be surprised today if he saw what his lowly little state had become, but the albino knew the old man would be proud, just like Fritz would be proud. Hell, _all _of his former kings would be proud of him. He had really made sure that his people were taken care of and recognized.

Who would have thought that the little state of Prussia would come all this way? Although it was a bit embarrassing to admit, Gilbert knew he had not always been the wonderfully powerful kingdom he was today. There had been points in his history where he had been nothing more by a patch of dirt that the other, bigger nations abused and harassed, but didn't that make his story all that more awesome? He had come out of obscurity, fought against everything that life threw at him, and still he ended up on top. Gerwig had once told him that he could either cry about his lot in life and be destroyed, or he could do something about his future, take it into his own hands and rise to the occasion. Although there had been hard feelings before, Gilbert couldn't help but wonder if Ludwig hadn't come into being and Gerwig was still around, would the Holy Roman Empire be proud of him too? He liked to think so.

Realizing that he had ended up in the garden maze, the albino snorted before searching for his way out, all the while humming to himself. He decided that perhaps he shouldn't think of the past so much, not with such a bright future ahead of him. His kings of the past would be proud of him, and Gerwig wasn't dead, just another person now, and Ludwig loved him and certainly would be pleased. It was time to start thinking more about his brother and leaders' arrival. This was the best moment in his history thus far, he shouldn't ruin it by dwelling in the past and brood over the miseries that just didn't matter anymore.

So, once out of the maze, the personification went back into the palace, kicking a rock as he went. He jogged up the steps lightly, and went to find his generals, when he saw two men walking over to him. One was a Lieutenant Schäfer who had fought beside Gilbert several times, but the other was a young man that the kingdom had never seen as it would be very hard to forget a face like _that. _

For a split second, Gilbert was in shock as he watch the pair come closer. For that one instant, the albino believed he must have been seeing a ghost, for he swore the other man was his father, Germania. Pale blonde locks, sharp blue eyes, tall, muscular; it was surreal. The stern face before him took the kingdom back to a time when he was so very young in the world, just starting out, when he had been a child, with a father who watched over him. Was he dreaming or was there truly a person there beside his lieutenant?

"_Mein Herr,_" Schäfer saluted stiffly waiting for his nation to relieve him, which Gilbert did quickly once he came out of his surprise.

"Is there something I can help you with?" the albino asked crisply. He might not have been so formal had the young man not been around. For some reason, he intimidated Gilbert, a feat not at all easily done, but seeing as the boy was nearly the spitting image of Germania it was understandable.

"No, Sir," Schäfer replied. "Just following the orders to bring him to you," he nodded towards the young man.

"Good work," Prussia replied dryly, almost regretting that he wasn't hallucinating the boy. "You're as useful as a homing pigeon."

The lieutenant sported the shadow of a smirk, but he remained taut, like a true soldier. "Thank you, Sir."

"You're dismissed," the albino added, before turning his red eyes upon the other human beside him, trying to make up his mind about how he felt about the boy. This was not his father, but damn if it wasn't a near replica of the territory that had raised him!

Schäfer saluted to his nation, turned and saluted the young man, before he walked off down the hall. Once the human was out of sight, Prussia turned to inspect the other man left in his presence, trying to find some fault in him, some difference that would prove he wasn't Germania's reincarnation.

At first the nation was irritated that the young man hadn't saluted him as Schäfer had, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he examined the silent giant. For that's what the young man was. He was quite tall, and his shoulders were broad. He had yet to fully fill and flesh out, but when he did, there was no doubt in Gilbert's mind that the boy would make a fierce fighter. The young man had pale golden hair that fell slightly into his eyes, kept short, and had the most piercing blue eyes that the Prussia had ever seen. They looked like chips of ice stabbing into him, very cold and guarded. His posture was stiff and ridged, as though he was nervous, unsure about what to do, yet he remained still, waiting for judgment to pass. The Soldier King would have been drooling had he ever seen the boy in his courts, and quite frankly, Gilbert was itching to see what the boy could do, see what kind of fighter he was.

This man was _not _Germania, he could tell that after his brief moment of shock, but there was something terribly familiar about him. He was very young, yet no matter how hard he tried, the Prussian could not place him. It was frustrating, especially since he looked so very much like his father. It was spooky, in a way, as though the old nation had come back from the dead at his son's greatest victory.

"Well, well, well," the albino smirked, walking around the blonde like a wolf stalking a deer, hoping to mask his uneasiness. "What can I do for you, _Herr_…?" he drawled, as he stopped right in front of the boy, hoping to get a name.

The blonde looked extremely nervous, yet there was a certain glint in his eyes that was very alive as it blazed in the depths of his orbs. Gilbert frowned when he saw it, it looking so familiar …

Without warning, the young man lunged at the Prussian, catching the albino completely by surprised, and before the kingdom could do anything, he found himself caught up in a bone crushing embrace. For a split second, Gilbert was afraid that one of France's rebels had somehow gotten in to try and kill him, but he put that idea aside quickly when he recalled just how very German the boy had looked. What really unnerved the albino, however, was the fact that when he tried to break free, he couldn't.

Panic nearly overwhelmed the albino as he struggled, but he managed to get an arm free. Seeing the older man's resistance, the boy apparently realized that the Prussian had been trying to escape, and released him immediately. "_Es tut mir leid_," the younger German apologized quickly, his voice deep and rumbling as it bounced off the walls of the palace.

Scowling darkly, not at all liking being caught so off guard by some giant…_thing_, Gilbert snorted. "Who the hell do you think you are, soldier?" he snapped. "You do _not _touch your nation in such a way." The blue eyes seemed surprised, which looked uncharacteristic on the apprently natural stern features somehow. It was as odd an expression for this face as it would have been on his father's. "Who do you think you are?" he went on, wanting answers, wanting to reprehend the soldier and forget about his own discomfort.

The boy frowned deeply, hurt, before those icy eyes melted and softened. "_Bruder_," he said gently. "It's me. Ludwig."

Gilbert felt half of his brain collapse as the rest shut down completely as he stared at the boy in front of him. He might have laughed, called the solider a liar, but the fact that the boy had called his little brother by name made it hard to deny the man's claim. The blue eyes suddenly seemed to make sense, and all the familiarity he had noticed in the man now clicked into place. This was his brother, the heir to Germania and the phoenix out of the ashes of the Holy Roman Empire. This was Germany, the nation that Prussia had been relentlessly fighting to create. And it was in that moment of revelation that Gilbert understood just how much power he had gained from this war.

"Gilbert?" Ludwig took a step forward, looking concerned, again, the expression looking out of place on the young man's features now.

"W-West?" the albino managed to choke out, hoping his eyes didn't bulge. He reached up and lightly touched the other German's cheek, as though testing to see if the boy was real. "Is that really you?"

The young man suddenly beamed at the recognition and nodded his head quickly. "_Ja, Bruder_, it's me."

The albino couldn't help but gawk, and not knowing what else to do, he laughed. "_Kesesese! _They told me you had grown, but I had no idea you had grown…this…much." He blushed a bit from embarrassment. He suddenly felt stupid for not even recognizing his own brother— although it wasn't the first time he'd had this problem…

The blonde didn't seem too upset at his brother's inability to identify him, but instead looked embarrassed as well, his pale face reddening a bit. "_J-ja_. I meant to write you, but Wilhelmina wouldn't let me. She said that I should wait for you to return or send for me…"

Seeing his brother's discomfort and nervousness got to the albino, and Gilbert found himself unable to ease the awkwardness. "So when you grew, you left and she couldn't stop you?" he chuckled uneasily. "Bullied your way out, did you?" he teased.

Suddenly, the younger German's face became steely and serious, reminding the albino far too much of his father. "_Ja_," he nodded seriously. "I could not wait around anymore while you fought on your own. You have full support from me now, and I intend to help you."

West was not asking, he was _commanding_, and somehow the authority in his voice demanded respect, respect the albino found himself unable to refuse. He couldn't believe he was seeing his brother all grown up. Gerwig had managed to grow a bit more by the end of his existence, but once Napoleon had come into power and Holy Rome was dissolved, the blonde had reverted back into a small child. And that small child had grown into the behemoth that was standing before the Prussian today. It just didn't seem possible that this man was the sweet little boy Gilbert had saved from the wolves. This wasn't the same boy that had clung to him for protection and support, had hugged and kissed him and sat on his knee. It just wasn't possible.

And yet it was. Gilbert had set off to create an empire with his brother, a German Empire that was stronger and more powerful than it had ever been. And now here was the proof before him. He had made this man, taken the broken, sad remains of the Holy Roman Empire, nurtured it, and at last his hard, painful efforts had come to bear fruit. The boy was his crowning achievement, and Prussia could not have been more proud if he had tried, even if a part of him longed for that sweet little boy back.

Realizing that he should answer, the albino nodded once out of his reserve. "Yes," he said quickly. "I'm glad you made it. The king will be here soon for the coronation as the first Emperor of the German Empire."

A smile came to the younger man's lips, softening the hard features, allowing the Prussian to see the boy he loved so dearly beneath the new exterior. "I…can scarcely believe that you did it," he admitted gently.

Prussia snorted indignantly. "I told you I would, West," he crossed his arms. "Didn't I tell you? I'm awesome! Of course I would do it. It took some time, admittedly, but in the end, I _won_. I trust you will not forget or doubt my awesomeness again?"

The blonde's smile only widened. "Forgive my doubt, _Bruder_," Ludwig said sincerely. "You are awesome. I will never forget that."

Hearing those words from the only person in the world that Gilbert loved more than himself touched him deeply. It was one thing to have his people and leaders proud of him, but to see and hear it from his brother... that was something completely different and special. Ludwig had always believed in him, which was more than anyone else in the world, never truly having a moment's doubt, and it touched the albino greatly.

But trying to hide the emotions that threatened to cripple him, Prussia snorted again, playfully punching his brother on the shoulder, still marveling at the strength his brother now had and desparing over how he had to look _up _at the boy. "And don't you forget it!" he shouted, puffing out his chest a little. "Now come on! I want to show you off to the others so they can admire my awesomeness."

Ludwig rolled his eyes, but the smile did not disappear from his lips, the Prussia noticed with pleasure. And together, the two brothers walked down the emptied halls of Versailles, and off to celebrate their victory.

**oOoOoOo**

**18 January 1871**

Ludwig stood outside the Hall of Mirrors, waiting for the coronation to begin. They were having a grand ceremony today, to officially announce the unification of the German states into the newly created German Empire. The blonde could still hardly believe all that had happened to him in such a short time. One moment he was sick and weak, lying pathetically in bed, wondering if he was going to live or be destroyed from being pulled in so many different directions, and then the next, he grew an impossible amount in nearly a year, and suddenly he was a part of the empire his brother created. He had dreamed of his day for so long, the day he would be able to join his brother and never have to be split apart again, and now that it had finally happened, the boy was still in shock. He had waited sixty-five years for this, could his waiting really finally be over?

The blonde took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart. He was dressed in one of his brother's uniforms, custom made, with medals and pins and chords adorning the jacket, medals he'd received from all of the other non-Prussian states that he represented, and even a few that his brother did, symbolizing the unity of the German peoples as well as to distinguish the different states and kingdoms that still remained under the Prussian rule. They were all very special to the young empire, each having its own unique history and significant from around the empire, but the one that he was prestigiously proud of was the _Eisernes Kreuz _that hung proudly at his neck. It was the perfect symbol of his brother, having been in Prussia's history since the early starts of the Teutonic Knights, and then created as a medal of honor during the Napoleonic War. It was a very great honor for him to be able to wear it, and he only hoped that he would always do right by it, always remain deserving to bear his brother's most precious symbol.

Opening his eyes, the newly formed empire found himself shifting a bit out of uneasiness. He didn't like being in France, and he certainly didn't like being in the palace again. He had spent eight long years here, away from his brother and people, trapped and forced to have his people fight against those he loved dearly. But worse was the loss of his first human companion, Ida. There were still nights he thought about her, her kindness and tenderness. She had been the closest thing he'd had to a mother figure, but even as a child, despite how he desperately wished it to be so, he'd know that she could never been anything more to him than a memory. She was only human, after all, and she would have died eventually. His only regret was that she had died because of him, trying to protect him. She had believed in him, believed that one day he would be great, and he had let her down. All Ludwig could do now, however was hope that she was looking down from Heaven to watch him fulfill her dearest wish. Even though he would not blame her if she didn't forgive him, the blonde hope that she knew he was sorry, and he could only wish that she was proud of him.

The plans for the coronation was simple. All the Prussian leaders and generals were in the room along with notable French nobles and diplomats to witness the crowning. Then King Wilhelm would enter and be crowned _Deutscher Kaiser_. It was common practice that once a new king was crowned, or emperor, that the new monarch be presented with the nation or new territory he would be responsible for governing, and as such, Ludwig would have to present himself before the Prussians and not only acknowledge them as his new leaders, but be accepted by them. It was a ritual that had been passed down since the beginning, he was told, and it was one tradition that he had managed to keep since his release from France in 1814. It had been one of the few duties he had been allowed to do while under Austria and then when shared between Roderich and his brother.

But this time it was different. This time, Ludwig would no longer have to always respond to every monarch left in his domain, as the only one who truly ruled was the _Kaiser_. For the first time that the young nation could recall, he would be stabilized; there was no danger of him being split apart. He was one nation under one true leader with one people with one common language. He was united at last, the nightmares and fear of fading away seemed so unlikely and ridiculous now. He was not a large territory with tiny, insignificant kingdoms whose voices went unheard and were largely inconsequential in the world. He was one solid empire, he and his brother, and even though he knew he had not truly come into his own quite yet, that he still had training to do to become complete and as strong as he could be, for once, Ludwig felt solid. And from this strength came confidence. He liked his confidence, he liked his power, and he would do anything to keep it, so that he would never have to rely on others, never have to fear being taken away from his brother again.

Music began to play, and Ludwig found himself walking towards the door, cracking it slightly so he could see the king proceed into the room. Wilhelm looked truly grand and regal as he walked towards the throne, his uniform immaculate and beautiful. There were Prussian flags hanging all about, drowning the French decorations that had once stood in their stead. How humiliating, the blonde thought, for France to have to bear witness to such an event, to see his rival and enemy's most glorious triumph take place in his own palace. Not that the German felt bad for the Frenchman, not at all, but he couldn't help the morbid delight he took in knowing that his western neighbor was suffering so. He wanted to see France's face when he entered the room soon. He was no longer the broken, little boy that he used to be and he wanted the other nation to know it.

The blonde watched with fascination and pride as the Prussian king knelt down to receive his title, only to rise as the first German Emperor. The men saluted their _Kaiser _with the raise of swords, hailing and shouting praise to the new _Kaiser_. He noted that the Frenchmen allowed to attend were quiet as they observed the Prussian spectacle, no doubt miserable. It made Ludwig smirk.

When the cheers died down, Gilbert came suddenly into view along with Bismarck. Prussia bowed down before his king and the Chancellor, as Wilhelm placed his hands upon his kingdom's shoulders, as a sign of recognition of the glory his nation had achieved. When the albino stood again, looking prouder and more stately than Ludwig had ever seen him, Bismarck beckoned. "Now let us see the glory of our new empire!"

Suddenly Ludwig was nervous as he recalled not having yet seen either Bismarck or Wilhelm, as Gilbert had wanted to keep it a surprise. But now it was time to reveal himself. Taking a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and standing tall, the blonde stepped into the Hall of Mirrors and marched confidently through the throng of Prussians and towards his new _Kaiser _with his head held high. As he went, he heard the gasps from all around him, he saw the shock and awe on the faces, but he tried his best to ignore them. He stared straight ahead, locking eyes with his brother. The crimson kept him steady and composed as he finally came before the stunned Wilhelm and Bismarck.

Getting onto his knees, the newly formed empire bowed to his emperor. "I acknowledge you, on behalf of the former Northern German Confederation and all those from the southern German states, as _Kaiser, _to rule over me and to govern my lands as you see fit." His voice seemed to echo across the hall even though there were people crowded all around. He began to sweat.

Ludwig felt hands on his shoulders and he couldn't help the thrill that shot through his body. It was electric, and with this one touch, he knew that his fate was sealed, that he was an official empire, no longer having to worry about the problems of the past. "I accept you as you are," Wilhelm stated boldly, his voice authoritative and stern. "You were welcomed into the Northern German Confederation, and you are…more welcomed into the Empire, in which Prussia has created. You are hereby, from this day forth, the _Deutsches Kaiserreich_, in, with, and under Prussian rule. Rise up, _Deutsches Kaiserreich_."

A great weight was lifted from the young personification's chest as he stood, one he hadn't known was there, and he felt light headed, almost as though drunk. It was like he was floating as he turned to face the assembly gathered. It was like he had stood too close to a canon when it fired, his ears were ringing and the cheers and shouts he heard sounded very distant. Bismarck's cry of "_Heil!_" sounded like the whispering echo of a dream. The Prussian faces were all wild with enthusiasm and delight, contrasting with the miserable and fearful of the French. He saw France in the back, looking pale and stunned. The nation that had once scared Ludwig so badly seemed so small now, insignificant, a shade of his former self. The empire was no longer afraid of him.

He continued to peer around the room in his dreamlike state until he locked eyes with shining rubies. The moment he and his brother made eye contact, the euphoric delusion ended abruptly. It was like falling into ice water. It was astonishing, terrifying, yet invigorating. The look in those crimson eyes told the younger German that his brother felt the same as he did. The rush of sheer power was intoxicating.

Slowly, the albino held out his hand and Ludwig grasped a hold of it, not merely as one would to seal a deal, but rather as one holding on to forever with no intention of ever letting go. It was a silent deal of acknowledging a need for one another. They had formed this empire together, the two of them, and it was a silent deal of never leaving the other again.

"_Gott mit uns_," Gilbert's voice was soft, nearly a whisper, but Ludwig heard it over the cries of the humans around them, tears shining in those cinnabar eyes.

Smiling back, his own eyes not completely dry, Ludwig nodded seriously. "_Gott mit uns_."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Huzzah! We finally made it to the Unification of Germany! :D Can you believe this story has already taken us through sixty-five years of German history? Crazy, but we still have over one hundred years left before I'm satisfied and finished, so don't give up on me yet, please!

**History: **Friedrich Wilhlem aka The Great Elector, was what saved Prussia when it was probably at its lowest. He stopped the Swedish from marching through their lands, began making it a more militarized state, which in turn helped unify Prussia more completely, and sided with Austria when Austria and France were fighting for control over the HRE. Because of this, Austria was so grateful that they allowed for the Great Elector's son, Friedrich I, to become the first King IN Prussia. King OF Prussia held more authority and power, and the first King OF Prussia was Friedrich the Great, after he declared HIMSELF King of Prussia. And just fyi The Soldier King is not Fritz, it's Fritz's father, Friedrich Wilhelm I.

In case everyone was wondering why I used "_Deutscher Kaiser_" instead of just using "_Kaiser _of Germany" or something like that, it was deliberate. Bismarck carefully chose "German Emperor" because calling Wilhelm the "Emperor of Germany" made it sound like he was the sole ruler of Germany. He was not. The southern states, such as Bavaria, Württemburg, and others still had kings of dukes, but the _Kaiser _was just the big boss, so to speak, the one with the final say. If you didn't notice, then here's a fun fact for you. :) Consequentially, Wilhelm didn't really _want _to be emperor of Germany, didn't really like the idea and even when he accepted, he still got a bit of the shaft because he wanted to be called the "Emperor of Germany" which, of course, you know was not how it went. Poor Wilhelm didn't get what he wanted…Oh well. Everyone else did that was German~

While the German Empire was officially formed on 18 January 1871, the Franco-Prussian War did not officially end until 10 May 1871, because there were Frenchmen that wouldn't give up. By the end of the war, Prussia would indeed be granted control over Alsace and Lorraine (these territories being _major _hotspots to gain control of in the World Wars).

And in case I forgot to mention this last chapter, by September 1870, Napoleon III abdicated the throne and after his abdication, the Third Republic of France was formed, so it's understandable why France had a hard time against the Prussians who just seemed to steamroll their way into France. The casualties were nearly a 7:1 ration, that being 7 Frenchmen to 1 Prussian…Poor France.

**German Reminders: **_Es tut mir lied: _I'm sorry. _Eisernes Kreuz- _Iron Cross. _Deutscher Kaiser- _German Emperor. _Deutsches Kaiserreich- _German Empire. _Gott mit uns_- God with us. (**the motto of the German Empire).

'**Nother Note: **I'm pretty sure that the coronation of the _Kaiser _didn't go _quite _like that, but I like the idea of the nations and their rulers acknowledging one another, both accepting their responsibilities. Attitudes of both Germany and Prussia if they seemed a little off, will be explained next chapter.

Let me know what you all think! I REALLY would LOVE to hear from all you fabulous readers out there! It's so neat for me to see people from all across the world reading and looking at this. So, any concerns, complaints, question, just ask! Thanks everyone! :)


	32. Chapter 28: Rise of the Empire

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Rise of the Empire **

With the end of the Franco-Prussian War, it seemed that things were finally looking up for Gilbert. Yes, he had finally made a name for himself in the world, and was now the creator of one of the largest, strongest nations within Europe. He had successfully defeated France with little trouble, the war lasting not even a year, and for the first time in a long while, Austria was backing off with his aggression. In fact, nearly as soon as the war was ended and with the resent creation of the Empire, the aristocratic pianist had even made it a point to seek out some sort of alliance with the new German Empire. The Prussian had been pleased beyond comprehension when he had received the Austrian's letter, imagining the other nation crawling over to him on his hands and knees, begging to be worthy of his notice. Pathetic. He might have refused it on the spot had not West and Bismarck both talked him out of his spite to see the real benefits allying with the Austrian Empire could bring. They were right of course, but it would have been hilarious to see the shock in Austria's eyes if he refused!

But amongst all the celebration and happiness the formation of the Empire brought throughout the German speaking world, there was one point that Prussia was not completely satisfied with, and that was actually West himself. Despite coming together to create the most impressive empire within Europe, having the best and strongest military in the world, Ludwig was not happy. Oh sure, the blonde hid it well, had a face that could easily have been ode to stone, but there was a slight tension in the boy's shoulders that never really went away. He wasn't satisfied with something, and it bothered the albino, more for the fact that he didn't know what it was.

Walking down the Palace of Berlin, in search of his younger brother, Gilbert eventually found the blonde in the library, reading. For just a moment, the elder German believed that perhaps the blonde had fallen asleep from the way he was hunched over, but on closer inspection, he found his younger brother merely studying an old map up close. The albino left him alone a moment, letting the boy work, until he caught sight of the content of the map.

"Not quite as large as old Holy Roman Empire," he spoke up, causing the blonde to jump a bit as he turned around sharply to stare up at his older brother. "But you shouldn't concern yourself, West," Gilbert went on, taking a seat beside his brother. "We'll grow and perhaps reach his prestige one day."

The other German frowned, but shook his head, his bangs getting in the way a bit. "That's not why I'm looking at this map, _Bruder_."

"Then why are you?"

The blonde looked like he was struggling with something, an idea, a notion that he had been pondering for a long while now. It made the albino uncomfortable. Every time West had brought up the Holy Roman Empire, Prussia got tense. He did not want his brother to know about his past, did not want the boy to have to worry about the forgotten time of his life. It was not even for the sake of keeping control over the boy, as he was sure others would accuse him of had they known. No, it was stemmed more from the fact that if West were to find out that he had once been that great confederation, it might very well drive the blonde mad. He already had an unhealthy hatred of France that would probably never leave him, and if he were to know that it had been France that had given the final push to end the Holy Roman Empire and then take him to live in Versailles…well, what would Ludwig do then? Would West feel inferior compared to his former life? Would he want to start up more wars and reclaim the lands that had once been his for the sake of being as large as the Holy Roman Empire had been?

No, there were many reasons why Ludwig should not know of his past, and most of them were not selfish on Gilbert's part. He had never wanted his little brother to feel inferior, not compared to who he had been, not to anyone. With his help, West was growing to be one of the most powerful nations in the world. At long last there was no real threat to them anymore, and Prussia had his well earned, well fought for prize that was his younger brother. No one could step up and try and claim the blonde anymore, no one had a right. It was just Gilbert. Just Prussia that had ultimately won the day.

But the albino was brought out of his thinking when his brother finally answered. "I…I was just wondering what happened to him."

"Holy Rome?" Gilbert frowned. "What do you mean? He was killed by France after Austria dissolved him."

"_Ja, _well, that's what everyone says," Ludwig muttered, unknowingly causing his brother's heart quicken uncomfortably. "But after he was killed, I was there…"

"Yes, that's how it works," Prussia snapped impatiently.

"No, you don't understand," the younger nation turned pleading eyes onto his brother. "I was just…there. I have no memories of being born or created or…whatever. I don't know where I came from or what happened to me before that. All of a sudden, it seemed as though I just…existed. Almost like I was spawned out of a battlefield left to wander through the corpses."

Gilbert winced at the description given to him. West had never once over the years talked about before the albino had found him. Never once had the child opened up about the terrible things he'd witnessed before his big brother had saved him. It actually hurt the albino's heart to finally understand just what that precious little boy years ago had been through. Perhaps that's why West never once flinched from the sight of a body lying on the ground anymore, why the boy could be so impassive and indifferent to suffering when he chose. What horrors had Ludwig experienced before running into the care of his brother? What atrocities had the boy been blessed to forget?

"How are nations born, _Bruder_?"

The question took the old nation by surprise, and he had to blink several times to clear his head of the images of his suffering baby brother. "How are we born?" he asked quickly, frowning.

"Yes, how are nations born?" Ludwig asked again, icy eyes sharp, inquisitive. "Are we born like humans or are we suddenly just formed? We do not grow like humans, our maturity ultimately depending on the unity of our people and culture more than the years that progress, or so it was with me. But how are nations truly created?"

The talk of creation was different among nations than it was with humans, but not unlike humans, this was one of the questions Gilbert had always hoped to avoid with his brother. Not because he was uncomfortable describing the functions of sex or the role women played in men's lives, but for the fact that he could not tell his brother the truth in this matter without giving away too much information about the past that he simply did not want his brother to remember. His brother would start demanding to know who their parents were, why Gilbert hadn't recognize him right away, why he was left out in the woods to wander. Their age difference was also bound to come up, and West would begin inquiring as to how they could really be brothers when Gilbert had been born before even the foundation of the Holy Roman Empire. None of the details would line up, and Prussia knew it. Even the stupidest of people would be able to see through the carefully concealed truth and understand what had happened. But the albino couldn't allow that to happen.

Sighing, the Prussian ran a hand through his hair, looking away from the inquisitive eyes next to him. "What you're asking, West…there's not an easy answer." It was not a lie.

"If you explain it, it will be the last I ask of it," the younger nation offered quickly, suddenly eager to learn. It was a trait that the albino could not find it within himself to temper. "I will remember it all. I won't ask again if you tell me this once."

Biting the inside of his mouth to think, fighting with himself, Gilbert finally looked down with a sigh. "Listen, West, you are the heir of the Holy Roman Empire," he explained seriously. "_You _were formed when he could no longer exist. Holy Rome…Holy Roman Empire was my brother, and you are from him, making you my brother too, not just my brother-nation, but my brother by blood as well."

"How?" Ludwig frowned, eyes flickering between the map laid out and his elder brother, as though he'd find the answers he craved there. "Was I born separate or am I…a reincarnation of the Holy Roman Empire?"

Ludwig and Gerwig were one and the same, the same body, even the same mind, though for whatever reason, Holy Rome's memories were locked away, so deeply within Germany's now, it was as though they were two different people entirely. Ludwig was more serious and cautious, more thoughtful and wary, while Gerwig had been brash and arrogant, more willing to step out and fight if he thought he could gain from it, his opponents being even those within his own confederation. His one little brother, so very different, so many different sides that now took dominance over him. But now, those same icy eyes were looking to him for answers, answers Prussia knew, but was unwilling to release.

"In a sense," Gilbert began slowly, "you are like his reincarnation," he said slowly. "From his ashes, you rose. You are different than he was, though," he stressed, hardening his ruby eyes, "you are nothing like the Holy Roman Empire. You are your own man, Ludwig. You don't need to carry on where he left off. You are stronger and wiser than he was. Do not go chasing after a lost legacy."

"I wasn't," Ludwig shook his head swiftly. "I…was merely curious. But _Bruder_, if I am his reincarnation…was I born to the same parents in order to be his brother, or do we even have pare—"

"Enough of these questions," the Prussian growled, standing up while closing the book with the old map with a sound snapped. "You said no more questions after I explained it to you, and I have, so enough."

Ludwig looked a bit hurt, but nodded anyway. Ever obedient. West, never questioning, just accepting. It was a trait that Gilbert adored but knew he was going to have to change if his brother was going to be truly powerful. Perhaps the Prussian could keep this loyalty, this unquestioning devotion just for himself, but work on the boy so that no one else would be able to benefit from this quality as well. Keep German loyalties within Germany.

"Come with me," the albino commanded, already walking towards the door. "We have other things to discuss."

In a matter of seconds, Ludwig was shadowing behind him, standing half a head above the Prussian. It still bothered the elder brother that his _little _brother had grown into such a hulking giant. The only other men that Prussia could think of that were taller than his baby brother were Sweden and Russia, who had always been known for their height. West now seemed to stand at the Netherland and Denmark's height, and that annoyed the albino more. He was not a small man himself, and stood nearly to their neighbors' height, but to know that the little blonde he had raised now seemed to tower over him just made the Prussian grumpy at times.

But he did not comment on his displeasure of having a younger brother being taller, nor did West ever comment upon his growth much, like there was an unspoken rule against it. There was a couple of times when Gilbert had sent the boy out to train when Ludwig was clumsy and would either trip over his large feet or hit his head on something, not quite used to having to duck. There were even occasions when the blonde did not realize his own strength and when training with humans, that was particularly dangerous. He had very nearly killed one soldier already due to his strength. The young personification had been nearly beside himself with guilt and concern, but the human recovered remarkably well, with only a broken arm and cracked ribs. After that, Prussia had decided to train his brother alone until the blonde got more used to his own body.

Together, the two brothers went into the Prussian's office and sat down. Gilbert could tell that while his brother's thoughts about where he had come from were not the only reasons for the boy's stiffness and quiet demeanor. There was still something else bothering the boy, and Prussia wanted to know what it was. Perhaps the blonde would tell him in time, but for now, the albino could not worry about that as business always carried on.

"I wanted to inform you that you and I will be going off soon," the albino said carefully once they were seated.

The younger German straightened immediately, eyes sparkling curiously. "Oh? Where to?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, perhaps hoping not to sound too childish, Gilbert supposed.

Gilbert watched the blonde's face carefully for a moment, wanting to know just how his brother would react nationally. While it was true that Prussia had an Emperor on the throne and Ludwig had swore himself to serve that emperor as it was his duty as the personification of the Empire, Germany was also technically still a confederation. There were still German kings floating around in the south, still dukes in the north. Kaiser Wilhelm was only emperor in name, not in deeds, and it was a real concern of Bismarck's that soon, the other kingdoms and states of Germany would become resentful of Prussian rule should they exhort too much power, which the Prussians believed was their right as the creators of the Empire.

Ludwig, strange boy, was once again in a position where he was caught in the middle, his being encompassing the Prussians as his own, yet also representing everyone else as well, who did not see the Prussians as their betters. For stabilities sake, the blonde had submitted himself to serve the Emperor, yet he was also responsible to the other rulers in the land. Even while united, there was still a pull on the blonde that could jeopardize the stability of the Empire. But Gilbert was not so very concerned about it. He knew that if worse came to worse he would appeal to his brother's humanity. Even if Germany wasn't, Ludwig was extremely loyal to Gilbert, and all Gilbert had to do was push Prussian ideals his brother's way, and he knew that he would get his way. Perhaps that was what was bothering his brother? Perhaps he was just now realizing that perhaps the Prussians were exhorting too much power in the Empire already?

Smiling easily, to put the younger man at ease, Gilbert sat back in his chair. Gilbird hopped down from his perch to nuzzle in his hair. "We'll be off to Switzerland soon," he informed his brother. "It's been nearly two months since the end of the Franco-Prussian War, and the other nations have become curious to see the German Empire in all its glory."

The younger man frowned, still sitting painfully straight. "They…want to see me?"

"_Ja_," Gilbert nodded. "They've all become quite curious to know how you've grown since the last time they saw you. You fought with me at the end the war, but even France never caught sight of you, or if he did, he didn't recognize you." Ludwig scowled. "Think of this as a meeting of all the nations coming together, and my introducing you to Europe, so that everyone will know who you are and can thereby give you the respect you deserve as my brother."

"You mean as the German Empire," the blonde muttered, eyeing his brother oddly for a moment before sighing. "All right. So, when are we leaving?" curiosity leaked once more into his voice.

"In two days," Gilbert nodded in approval. His brother was already taking his orders quite well. That was good. "You'll have to be on your best behavior. Because it will be easier, the Kaiser has appointed me to the head of the nation for this meeting." The blonde frowned ever so slightly. "I will be the one doing most of the talking and negotiating. You will be there to verify my claims or help me out whenever I may need it. Is that understood?"

Even though it was clear the Germany was not completely taken with the idea, he nodded instantly. "Yes, Sir," he replied crisply, the way true soldiers alway did.

Smiling, the albino nodded his sanction. "Good. Now, why don't we begin talking of these negotiations?"

Gilbert ignored the uncomfortable look that flashed over his brother's features for just an instant.

**oOoOoOo**

Ludwig could not remember ever having gone to Switzerland before, but he was not disappointed when he found himself there a few days later. The streets were a bit tight, but cheerful and not so different from his own southern towns in the west. The mountains were spectacular, though different than those in Bavaria, and the blonde was not sorry for his presence at all. He had been apprehensive of leaving his homeland again, but he was glad that he had come with his brother. Although different, Switzerland was a beautiful nation.

The two Germans were walking towards the meeting, dressed impeccably in their military uniforms. Gilbert dawned his regular Prussian blues with a white sash around his waist, his chest a display for all kinds of different metals and cords that he was glad to show off to anyone. On his head, he adorned his beloved _pickelhaube_ with the Prussian eagle displayed proudly at the front. Ludwig wore a similar uniform of blue, though his medals were from all over the Empire, not strictly Prussia, and the eagle on his helmet was less ornate than his brothers. Instead of a bright white sash, the blonde's was red, with gold in the middle. Gilbert had tried to explain why it was significant or why the helmets were necessary as they were traveling under friendly terms, but Ludwig had given up trying to make sense of his brother's plans and went along with it anyway. It was just easier to go along with his brother's plans, even though the blonde wondered why he was wearing a Prussian uniform and not one of the other German States.

They were shown to their room in the palace in Bern and were expected to attend the meeting soon after. The other nations had already arrived, but Gilbert had thought it would be a good idea to come nearly late, to make the others wait and to make a grand entrance. Ludwig didn't really care about all that, as he became increasingly worried that they would be tardy. He didn't like being behind for anything, and the fact that he was going to be "reintroduced" to everyone didn't help matters. They would all know him, yet it was the first time he would see them as an adult. How differently would they act around him? What if they were angry that they did not arrive on time?

"West," he was called from his panicked thoughts by his brother. "Hold still," the elder German said seriously, as he picked up a comb and some grease.

The blonde frowned as his brother pushed him down into a chair and started to work on his hair. "What are you doing?" he asked, not liking the greasy feeling on his head.

"I'm trying to make you look more…mature," he muttered under his breath as he worked. "Your bangs are getting too long anyway. You'll need a haircut soon."

After a couple minutes of working, at last, the Prussian was finished, and as Ludwig stood, he looked in the mirror. His blonde hair was completely slicked back, the grease holding stiffly, not a piece out of place, both sides perfectly symmetrical. "There," the albino grinned at him. "You look awesome, West! No one will accuse you of being a little kid anymore. _Kesesese!_"

Ludwig had never given much thought to the way he looked, least of all his hair, but as he stared at himself, he couldn't help but agree with his brother's deduction. He _did _look rather good with his hair like this. It was so different then the way he'd always worn it, but in a good way. It was neat and tidy, out of his eyes. But more importantly, at least for such a young nations like himself, it made him look older. The blonde knew that if he was ever going to get respect, he had to look the part of a serious nation, one that was not easily dissuaded or necessarily flexible. He had to be and look tough if he was ever going to get anywhere in life. And that's just what he wanted to be.

Straightening his features, shifting them into a stony blank, edging towards grim, he nodded towards his brother, and noticed how the red eyes across from him light up unusually, almost as though the albino was not looking at _him_. But the look was gone quick enough, and together, the two brothers walked out the of their room and towards the meeting. Ludwig calculated they had five minutes before they would be considered late, and he hoped that it wouldn't take more than that to get there.

Thankfully it had only taken four from their room, and with a minute to spare, the United German Empire made its entrance into the crowded room, filled with nations all sitting around a large table, used for conferences. They all stopped talking the moments the Germans entered, and turned to stare at the new comers. Some, Ludwig noted, gulped and looked uncomfortable when their eyes fell upon him, others just stared at him inquisitively.

"Prussia," a short blonde haired man stood, scowling. The new empire immediately recognized him as Switzerland. Personally, the blonde German had had little to do with his neighbor in the south, though he was inclined to think well of him. "You know the rules," the alpine nation scowled. "You leave your soldiers, guards, ambassadors, whatever outside of this room. This is for nations only. No humans."

Germany frowned, discreetly throwing a glance his brother's way, only to find the Prussian smiling like a cat that ate the canary. Some of the other nations in the room shifted uneasily when they saw that smile. Ludwig didn't blame them. "What human?" the albino asked, his voice far from innocent. "You all requested to get together to reintroduce yourselves to my brother, so here he is. This is the new German Empire."

Almost instantly, all eyes were back on Ludwig, and the younger nation had to fight himself to stop blushing as he stood stone still, almost at attention, under their scrutinizing stares. He heard France make some sort of noise between a groan and a whimper, while Britain's mouth seemed to have fallen open. Spain sat up straight with wide eyes, and next to him, Portugal kept blinking, as though she was not seeing correctly. Russia actually looked taken back, a major feet, and even Austria seemed completely shocked at what he was seeing. It had never occurred to the blonde until that moment that the others might not be comfortable with the sudden growth of the Germans, or the fact that they would all be surprised by his sudden change. Even his own brother hadn't recognized him at first, so there was little chance that anyone else would have either.

Prussia, on the other hand, only smiled all the more nastily as he took his seat next to Switzerland. Germany followed obediently and sat down next to his brother on the other side, making sure he sat up straight and kept his shoulders square. He didn't know if he should fold his hands on the table or in his lap, and ended with them resting on the arms of the chair awkwardly. It was by no means comfortable for him, but he was suddenly so nervous, actually being able to "sit with the adults" for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure what he should be doing and he was suddenly glad Gilbert would be the one doing most of the talking.

"Well," said Prussia pressed, leaning back in his seat cockily, glancing about the room with an almost bored expression. "You wanted to meet West, so here he is."

Coming out of his reserve first, Russia leaned forward a bit, eyes narrowing slightly, as he took in the sight of the younger nation directly across from him. "This?" he cocked his head to the side. "This is the little boy that I found all those years ago?"

Gilbert's smirk returned and Ludwig was certain he could see the pompousness radiating off of his brother in waves. He almost cringed at the shameless behavior, but kept his peace, not moving a muscle on his face as he stared back at the Russian that had helped him so long ago. "See what can be done with a little Prussian ingenuity?" Gilbert laughed not necessarily pleasantly. "I told you years ago to give the boy to me and I could whip him into shape."

Although he didn't like being spoken about like he was some sort of prize hog, again, Ludwig said nothing. He was told directly by the Kaiser himself before they'd left that he was to keep silent unless spoken to and allow his brother to speak since everyone seemed to think that Prussia had more experience in these matters. He waited patiently for someone else to speak as he scanned the room with his icy eyes. The Nordic countries of Denmark and Sweden had come, and so had his other immediate neighbors of France, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Austria, and Russia, the Slav apparently leaving behind those under his control this time. Spain and Portugal had also come, as well as Great Britain, who had married off one of his princesses to the Kaiser's son thirteen years ago. Every single one of them did not look necessarily pleased that he had grown the way he had.

Notably, a missing face that Ludwig was disappointed in not being able to see again was that of Lilie. He had wondered how the girl had been lately. It had been so hard to adjust to her no longer living with him after she'd left, but then, he had taken ill for so many years with the confusion of revolutions and other nations attacking him from nearly all sides. If he would admit it to himself, he had missed her, plain and simple. He wondered how much she'd grown since they parted ways. Would she have recognized him?

But also missing from the group were two individuals that the young German had particularly wanted to meet. The personifications of Italy, two brothers, had also not attended, even though they had an alliance of sorts with them. Ludwig had never met the two southern personifications, though he had always wanted to, after all he had read about the great Roman Empire, and knowing that at least one of the brothers had lived with Austria for so long, his curiosity over the southern nation had obviously been peeked. What would they be like? They had to be somewhat great if they were related to Rome, or so the blonde believed. It was a logical conclusion, after all.

Yet these three were not the only ones. Hungary had not been allowed to come with her husband, it seemed, nor had Russia brought along Poland, Ukraine, Lithuania, or any of his other minions along with him. Denmark, too, hadn't brought along others, nor had Britain. It slightly disappointed Ludwig not to be able to see all of the others again, ones that he only had the briefest encounters with since Austria and Prussia had always taken care of his business for him, but it was not to be completely unexpected.

At last, Britain seemed to come out of his momentary stupor, and seemed to be unable to comprehend that this was the little boy he had met all those years ago. "Well…I had not expected him to have grown quiteso much…"

"I told you," France hissed over at his island neighbor, almost conspiratorially. "I told you him growing up would be no good!"

Prussia scowled at this, apparently finding insult in some way, though Germany hardly cared, truth be told. France was an idiot as far as he was concerned, but he glared back along with his brother, just because he hated to the man. It didn't surprise the new empire one bit that the Frenchman flinched and nearly shrieked under his hard gaze. France had always seemed to be frightened of his glares even as a child. It always made the German feel a little better.

"Stand up, West," Gilbert muttered to him, his eyes almost more commanding than his voice. But it was unnecessary. Ludwig would always follow his brother's orders.

The moment he pushed back his chair to stand, everyone's eyes were glued to him once more.

"Behold German strength!" the albino exclaimed, standing as well, gesturing to his younger brother proudly. "Behold the power of the German speaking world! You all said it could not be done, to unify the German states, said that nothing could be gained, but here I am before you, West at my side, proving it _can _and _was _done. In a few more years, once the empire has had a chance to solidify and fall into rhythm, I expect that my dearest _Bruder _here will continue to grow in strength. Already he is impressive, is he not?"

"He is," Spain nodded, still gawking, green eyes wide.

France's face darkened, but he looked to Britain, as though for support, oddly enough. "I do not like this," he murmured, though Ludwig heard it. "You've brought the boy here so we could see the Empire. We have, and now it's time to talk business. You may dismiss him now."

Ludwig scowled darkly at his western neighbor. How dare that Frenchman believe he could just dismiss him. _Him_! _Deutschland_! Gilbert might have been the territory to create the Empire, to produce the Kaiser, but that did not mean that Ludwig was powerless! He still had kings and dukes and earls! He was still the other half of the confederation that made up the Empire!

His brother, however, did not appear to be as passionate as Ludwig felt in defending his honor, and simply shrugged. "_Mein Bruder _is part of the Empire."

"I…believe it would be better to speak with you. _Alone_, Prussia," Britain spoke up, agreeing with France for the first time in history. "We all left behind our territories and other countries we control to come talk business, and now that we've met…_Germany_," England's nose scrunched ever so slightly on the new name that had so desperately wanted to be spoke out loud for years, but had always been foiled in part by him too, "I believe we should move on."

Suddenly furious, Ludwig took a threatening step forward, speaking up for the first time. "That's not fair," the deep voice he himself was still getting used to, rang out in the room, once again surprising those gathered. "I _am _the Empire," he snarled. "I have every right to stay here alongside my brother."

"It's not fair that the Germans should have two," Sweden spoke up, his usually bored expression thoughtful as he regarded the more southern nation.

"Hey, yeah!" Denmark actually agreed with his old rival. "Everyone else has just one!"

Germany was about to tell them that he, in fact, did not care and that he was not leaving, when his brother's hand on his shoulder stayed him. Turning to look down into ruby eyes, Ludwig was disappointed to see the command in those eyes he loved so well. "Why not take a walk around, West," he said quietly, so as not to be overheard. "I'll inform you of everything later anyway. They know that."

The younger man did not at all like the situation, did not like that he was once again being treated like a child and that his brother was not helping him, but he knew better to argue in front of the others. He could not cause embarrassment to his Kaiser, his empire, or his people, and although he hated it, he nodded slowly. Sending a scathing glare around the room, the young blonde, with stiff pride, turned and left the room, making sure to slam the door on the way out. Not hard enough to give the impression of a spoiled child, but hard enough to let them know he was displeased and it was unwise to make him so.

He was about to storm away, perhaps go for a walk,_ anything _to reign in his temper, when something caught his eye. Nearly fumbling forward, Ludwig caught sight of someone staring at him, before they ducked back around the corner. It was such a strange sight that he almost dismissed it as his imagination, but curiosity got the better of him, and so the blonde stalked forward, intent on discovering the mysterious being that had been spying.

Turning the corner, Ludwig almost ran into another man, just a bit shorter than him, with shady blonde hair and bright, happy blue eyes that sparkled with youth. "Woah!" the man yelped, taking several steps back. "Ah-ha, guess you saw me, huh?" he laughed a bit shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

The accent coming from the stranger was odd, and certainly not any Ludwig had ever heard before. The German he heard was a bit more nasally than what he was used to and the "r"s he made sounded strange to the European's ears. The volume in which the other young man spoke was almost unnecessarily loud, but there was a laughing quality in it that made it hard to scold the other, even though Ludwig had a very great feeling that this man was rather tactless.

Nodding slowly, Ludwig narrowed his eyes, trying to put an identity to the stranger, but was coming up with nothing. His clothes didn't even help, as he wore nothing but a simple brown suit. "_Ja_. Was there something I can help you with?" he asked instead.

The other laugh, it was louder than his speaking voice, the only word coming to the German's mind was "obnoxious" as the young man smiled toothily at him. "No, I'm just waiting for Russia to get out of a meeting. And I was sort of hoping to get a glimpse of Germany…say…" he cocked his head to the side. "You're German, aren't you?" he asked, eyeing the blue uniform. "You know him? Is he in there too?"

The lighter haired blonde frowned, but could see nothing wrong with identifying himself. If this young stranger was dangerous, he wouldn't be in a Swiss palace, would he? "I am Germany," Ludwig held out his hand to the young man.

Sky blue eyes light up instantly, and the other grabbed Ludwig's hand and began shaking it enthusiastically, surprising the German with how much power was behind it. "Wow! Are you really him? I've heard of you, but I never thought I'd get to meet you so soon after unification! Especially since all the other stupid Europeans didn't even invite me to come today. If it hadn't been for Russia, I wouldn't have known about this at all!"

Frowning, Ludwig extracted his hand from the other before the man could shake it right off the German's arm. "And you are?" he asked sternly.

The other man blinked a moment before laughing, a little nervously this time. "Sorry! Where are my manners? I'm the United States of America! It's great to finally meet you!" the stranger, America apparently, exclaimed.

The German stood in surprise as he stared at the western nation next to him. "_Amerika_?" he couldn't help the astonishment that flittered across his features before he could suppress it again. "Forgive me, I was not expecting to meet you so soon."

"That's what I said!" the American grinned back widely. "Like I said, I wasn't invited to this get-together they've got going on today, but Russia told me about it and he wanted to make up some plans for coming over to my place really soon anyway, so he told me to meet him here, and I thought, hey, if I was in the area, might as well see if I couldn't get a glimpse of the famous new German Empire, right?"

The other spoke about a mile a minute and Ludwig found himself having a bit of trouble following along. Although America spoke rather good German, his accent was thick and for certain words it was harder to make out what he was saying, but he managed. "I see," the European nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I mean, I thought it would be good to meet you seeing as how I've got a _ton _of your people at my place and all, especially over the last several years, fleeing the wars and whatnot. But they're great workers!" America beamed. "And they make the _best_ farmers! They're a lot better than those English and Scottish immigrants I've gotten in the past. They sure know how to set up a homestead!"

Although there was a part of the German that was pleased to know that the people who had decided to leave him were taken care of and thriving in the New World, he was a little confused as to why the other man was telling him all of this. What did immigrants have to do with meeting either the German Empire or the Russian Empire? Was this quickly growing nation really just trying to make small talk?

"I…that's good to know," Ludwig muttered. "But you said you're here to meet _Russland_?"

"Yeah," America shrugged. "He's pretty much my bff."

The other man frowned. "Pardon?"

The shady blonde man looked blank for a moment before laughing loudly. "Sorry, I just sort of made that up just now," he chuckled. "Russia's like my best friend forever. See how that worked?" he winked. "His prince has been wanting to come over for a while now and see my west, and I was going to start making firmer plans with him to come on out for a big buffalo shoot soon. It'll be great!"

"I see," Germany nodded, not understanding what he was supposed to do or say at the moment. Maybe it _was _better that he left that meeting to Gilbert. He apparently couldn't even handle speaking to a rising nation on frivolous topics. Though it probably would have made Ludwig feel more comfortable if the American hadn't started rambling off in such a familiar fashion. They did not know each other at all, and the European failed to see why the other thought that they could just start talking like old friends.

"So, you're the new Empire," America started up again. "Like I said, I've been wanting to meet you. All of your old people at my place are pretty excited for you. They've been sending a lot of letters your way, back to their families they left behind." The other man smiled softly. "They're good people…even if my other citizens aren't too crazy about them at the moment…but they're like that with all immigrants. They'll get used to it soon enough, I'm sure. You should have heard them complain about the Irish that are even still coming. Don't know what I'll do if they start banning them again…" he trailed off thoughtfully.

Why on earth was this nation telling him about his personal problems? Ludwig felt very uncomfortable knowing so much about the western nation that he didn't even really know. But even though he was uneasy, Ludwig ended up spending nearly thirty minutes talking to the chattery man…or more accurately, listening to him as he rambled about anything and everything, only every once and a while getting a word in edgewise. But the end of the conversation, marked by when the doors of the conference room opened, Germany was exhausted just from listening.

But on hearing the doors open, America jumped and made himself scarce, hiding in a small out cove that just barely hid his form. The other nations all started marching out, Prussia speaking quietly to Britain, apparently not even seeing his brother, and France was in a heated debate with Austria. The ladder two sending Ludwig wary glances. The Nordics marched by giving respectful bows to Germany, trying to get away from Russia before he could speak with them, and Spain and Portugal were bickering about something, though said goodbye to the new Empire.

When Russia was the last to come out, and all the others seemed to have gone, and Germany was about to leave to follow his brother, America materialized by his side. "_Phew_!" he wiped at his forehead dramatically. "I thought they'd _never _leave!"

"_Amerika_!" Russia exclaimed upon seeing the other blonde. "I was beginning to think that you were not coming. Have you met _lapo—_oh, I suppose you are too old for that nickname now, aren't you?" the Slav smiled at Germany. "Have you met the German Empire?" he restated for his more western friend.

"Sure did!" America laughed, smiling brightly. "Me and Germany here were thinking about becoming friends some day," he nudged the German playfully, only furthering the other blonde's discomfort.

"Oh?" Russia smiled. "Good for you. I hope it will work out. Now, shall we begin discussions about the fall?"

"Sure thing, big guy!" the America laughed again, though for the life of him, Ludwig couldn't figure out what was so funny all the time. "Well, I'll be hopefully seeing you again, Germany. It was great meeting you!"

Ludwig took the other's hand and shook it firmly. "Likewise," he muttered. "Goodbye. Goodbye, Russia," he nodded at the Slav.

"Goodbye, Germany," the larger nation smiled in a way that made the German a bit nervous. "Tell your brother to expect hearing from me very soon."

"Of course," the new empire nodded before leaving the two "friends" to discuss the visit of the prince to America.

As he made his way back to the room he shared with his brother, all Ludwig could think about was how strange it was, to suddenly be the focus of attention. He hoped it wouldn't last long so he could do his work without distraction and meet more nations properly, and form alliances, like the tentative meeting he'd had with America. But more importantly, he wanted to help his brother run their land and build up their people. Because as it was now, Ludwig did not like waiting around and being pushed aside. Germany was not meant to ever be pushed aside.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I think I like history too much… I seem to just think of the most random tidbits and think "gosh, that would work in _great _here!" *isshot*

**History: **While Prussians made the empire, they technically weren't supposed to have a lot more power than the rest of the states, but as we all can guess, that didn't happen and soon, the Kaiser and Bismarck had everyone else under their thumbs…well, mostly Bismarck's.

Victoria Adelaide Mary, daughter of the English Queen Victoria and Prince Albert (a German prince) married Kaiser Friedrich III of Prussia (Kaiser Wilhelm I's son) on the 25 January 1858. Queen Victoria had VERY LITTLE English blood in her and was, in fact, nearly all German, like her husband (whom she loved dearly). These two planned to marry their daughter off to the Prussians even before the German Empire was created because they wanted to keep their ties with the Germans. Apparently Friedrich and Victoria loved each other very much and had a happy arranged marriage.

Over 60% of Americans claim some sort of German blood (like my family). That being the case, for the longest time, Americans felt a kinship with Germany, some (like the old folks in my family) wanting to side with the Germans in both World Wars, though politically we were tied up with Britain. BUT a lot of Americans have personal ties with Germany and really like the country, and during the 1840-1870, there was a strong flux of German immigrants to the States for various reasons; to escape the war, famine in the '50s, revolution, general turmoil…I just thought it was time to introduce another character for later.

1871 also happened to be the year that the Russian Prince, Grand Duke Alexi, third son of the Tsar, decided to come to the US to buffalo hunt and just generally tour America. His stay lasted from November of 1871 to February 1872. From about the early 1800s right up to about 1900, the Americans and Russians were extremely close, total BFFs for many reasons. With the turn of the twentieth century, relations, as we know, soured considerably, but it's just amazing how well these two got along. It really is weird how nice and friendly my country was with Russia (Any Russians out there want to be my friend and improve relations again? :D jk).

'**Nother Note: **I just wanted to thank everyone again for being so awesome and reading all this. I know it's a lot to take in some times. -_-" And I just have to say again, I'm so impressed with how many Germans are actually reading this! I'm a little nervous about getting the history right all the time, I hope you all out there aren't displeased with what I've got so far!

Please, to everyone, whether you're American, German, Russian, British, French, Italian, whatever, please leave me a review as I always adore hearing from you. Thanks everyone! You're all the best!


	33. Chapter 29: Balancing Act

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Balancing Act**

**1874**

Life as the new German Empire was not what Ludwig had expected it to be. Despite becoming the personification of the Empire itself, he surprisingly felt as though he had little power. The Kaiser and Bismarck often gave jobs to Prussia with the excuses that the albino was older and more experienced with politics, leaving the blonde to feel nearly useless as he stayed around the palace. He had argued, but no matter what he said, the Prussians' arguments were logical and made sense, leaving the blonde feeling foolish and guilty for stirring trouble and creating resentment when there was no cause for it. And so, following his orders, it left the young nation with more time on his hands than he would have cared for because it left him with questions, questions that he could simply not answer, and mysteries forever left unsolved. It left him time to reflect about his past…

No matter what Ludwig did, no matter how frustrated he became, the blonde knew that his memories from the past, of how he had come to be left wandering around the woods, of the wreckage of the battle field he had stumbled upon, would forever remain a mystery to him. He had tried on many different occasions to attempt to unlock that part of his mind, to at least peek inside and catch even the slightest glimpse of who and what he had been, but to no avail. Incessantly that section of his mind remained closed to him, locked and sealed with no signs of giving, and he was left with no recollection of even a single thought before the time he had walked through a field of corpses. It was one of his greatest frustrations, his greatest regrets, forgetting the time before.

But of one thing the young nation was sure of, even if he could not properly recall it, was that Gilbert had always been there for him. Even before he could remember the albino being in his life, Ludwig stood firm in the belief that his elder brother had been there for him and cared for him in the time before he had lost his memory. Although he had no real proof, there were moments, fleeting instances in his dreams, where he would imagine himself younger, almost a different person, always in black, where he saw flashes of white. Sitting in with his brother on meetings or when they were just simply spending time together, there were strange occasions that were trigged by nothing at all, just a look his brother would give him, a snicker, and the blonde's mind skipped and he believed he recalled that laugh from long ago, only, the laughter was lighter, higher, much younger. For just that one instant, he would see his brother as a child.

No real evidence did Ludwig have to label these feelings and strange recollection as concrete memories so he tried not to dwell on them too much. It was true that he was curious about them, questions gnawing away at his gut and his brain, but he always refrained from speaking. His brother didn't like it when he started to question the past, and Gilbert was so busy nowadays, what with being the leader of the confederation that was the German Empire, and the younger man didn't want to cause anymore inconvenience to the albino. Germany was the Empire, but it was Prussia who seemed to be running the show. Bismarck had all but told him so. Despite him being an adult now, and the true personification of the Empire, Ludwig still felt inferior to his brother, still felt like the little boy that was always sick, couldn't take care of himself, was still lost in the woods…

But this didn't matter anymore. He was _not _that child anymore. He was, in fact, no longer a child. He was a grown man, had building himself up to be great. He no longer had to stay up at night crying, longing for his big brother to come and save him. Now, Ludwig could make his own decisions and he was living with his elder brother, just as he had wanted to do since 1806. It no longer even matter that he couldn't remember who he had been before, or what his life had been like, because he knew, without a shadow of doubt, even without hard facts, that Gilbert had been there for him in the past, and he was here with him now and in the future. Nothing else matter now that he and his elder brother were finally united together as one of the most powerful Empires within Europe. Despite his uneasiness with the Prussian leadership, Ludwig found himself caring less everyday just for the fact that his big brother was here, and would always care for him.

"_Mein Herr?_"

The questions jolted the nation from his thoughts and he put down the book he had not even really been reading to look up at the young servant in front of him. "_Ja_? What is it?" he asked, still not quite used to his new voice. It was so much deeper and resonant. He liked it.

"Sir, _Kaiser_ Wilhelm asks that you be sent to Bavaria," the young man said respectfully, bowing formally as the blonde stood, snapping his book shut.

"_Bayern_?" Ludwig frowned. "Why?"

The servant couldn't suppress the rolling of the eyes. "It seems that he's worried about Mad King Ludwig in the south."

The young personification nearly mimicked the rolling of the eyes, but unlike the human, was able to stop himself. "Has he done anything specifically horrifying?"

"No, not yet," the shorter man replied, walking with his empire as they made their way to Ludwig's chambers. "But as you know, the ten year anniversary of his reign is coming up, and _Herr _Bismarck believed that it might be…_wise_ to send someone down there to insure that the Bavarians do not…well…"

The blonde nodded. "Yes, I understand. Please inform my brother that I will be at the stalls in fifteen minutes. I shall pack, and then be on my way."

"Very good, _mein Herr_," the servant nodded before he took his leave.

Ludwig went into his chambers and quickly began packing a simple bag for his ride down into the mountain lands. While the blonde often enjoyed going into the south to visit his people there, whose way of life was quite different than their northern brothers, he knew that Gilbert would not like going too much. When the personification of Bavaria had still been around, Ludwig had learned that more often than not, the Bavarians sided with the Austrians and that Bavaria and Prussia had not gotten on very well. In fact, even with that southern personification gone, the albino still found it difficult to go down south without a sour expression adorning his features.

It was little wonder, however. The first time Ludwig could ever remember going down south to the Alp-lands, he had heard some rather…_interesting _talk of his elder brother. Just as it was ingrained in the Prussians to mock the Austrians, so it seemed that for the Bavarians it was ingrained in them to mock the Prussians. "Pig-Prussians" that's what the southerners called anyone they did not like, even if they were not, in fact, Prussian. As a child, the insult had confused and rather alarmed the blonde, but as he got older, he came to understand the history more and had wisely never asked his brother about it.

Shaking his head out of those silly musings, the young personification decided that he ought to prepare himself for a long journey with his elder brother's bickering and complaining. It was not to say that Gilbert completely hated Bavaria; in fact, once Ludwig had gotten the albino to admit that it was a lovely land… but that was all he ever got out of the Prussian. Even then, the older man had only relented enough to say that because his younger brother now controlled that acreage, and it made up a part of the blonde.

With his things packed, Ludwig quickly set about changing uniforms for his trip to Bavaria. While his brother and Bismarck did not like it very much, the Empire decided that in order to keep everyone pleased, he would change into the uniforms of the kingdom or duchy he visited as not to offend. Gilbert had argued that the only uniform Ludwig had to ever need to wear again was a blue one, but the younger wasn't so sure. His southern states in particular still had so much pride, he did not want to overwhelm them with the Prussian influence. Especially since it seemed that the Prussians were leaking into every facet of German affairs. That was Bismarck's doing.

It only took a moment before Ludwig was dressed within the green uniform and pulling up his black boots. As he stood, he straightened the red cuffs and collar, before looking at himself in the mirror. The gold buttons glittered back to him and he could help but believe that, despite Gilbert's claim that he looked the best in blue, he did rather look nice the green. He quickly put on the white and gold sash off one shoulder, signaling himself as the Empire, and adjusting the matching white belt. Next, he quickly placed a few of his metals and patches on the coat, making sure to include the Prussian cross around his neck, and attached the sword to his belt.

With that finished, he grabbed his _pickelhaube _and walked out of his room, bag slung over his shoulder. Within the fifteen minute time slot he'd given himself, he was at the stables, the groomsman preparing his horse. The man bowed his head to him, and Ludwig nodded back. It still made him uncomfortable to be treated as though he were royalty. A nod, perhaps, but this bowing…it was uncomfortable. Ludwig could not remember a time when anyone had really bowed to him as a child. His brother used to playfully, and Lilie would curtsey to him as they made their games, but humans never really had. Bismarck had done it, but the blonde had always suspected that that was because the man wanted to get on his good side. But now as an empire, as _the _Empire, it seemed that everyone esteemed him to the position of royal. It made him wonder if other nations had to deal with this treatment as well, and if they did, did they like it? After three years of this, Ludwig still didn't care for it.

When a flash of white caught his attention, the blonde smiled ever so slightly and placed the helmet over his immaculately slicked back hair. He had kept the hair style his brother had recommended and he was glad that he had. It made him look older, and with the illusion of age came more respect. He had also kept up with his brother's training programs, wanting to remain strong and fit, to show everyone that he was not a child anymore, that he could rightly take care of himself. He would show them. He would show them all.

"At last," Ludwig called once his brother was near enough. "Here I thought that you were not going to come," he teased, his deeper voice gave off a slightly disapproving edge, though he did not mean it so.

The albino's lip curled up in distaste, obviously thinking of the trip, but said nothing. That's when the blonde realized his brother had no bag for the trip down, nor had he brought his helmet or cape for the ride. "_Bruder_?" he questioned.

"I'm not going down south," the Prussian stated firmly, raising a brow at his brother, as though wondered how the blonde could have ever thought such a thing.

Ludwig was stunned. "But this trip is not for pleasure, _Bruder_, we are going on business," he stated, wondering if there had been some sort of misunderstanding. "I was told that _Kaiser _Wilhelm and _Herr _Bismarck wished for us to see _König _Ludwig."

"You mean they wanted _you _to go to _Bayern_." Gilbert pulled some papers from his pocket. "I'm staying here in Berlin." He handed the parchment over. "Here are instructions _Herr _Bismarck has issued for you to follow once you are there."

Ludwig opened the paper and began to read Bismarck's writing. Staring up at his brother with wide eyes, the younger German was almost unable to speak he was so astonished. "You mean…you mean you are sending me alone on business? You're…you're trusting me to handle this on my own?"

The albino didn't seem to understand his brother's surprise or the awe in his voice. Instead, the Prussian merely nodded. "I'll see you in several weeks, West." His lips pulled back in a wicked smirk, "Don't screw up."

Had he not grown, had he not been an adult now, Ludwig was quite certain he would have flung himself at his brother and hugged him. But now it would have been an unwise decision for two reasons: The first being that it would be extremely unprofessional and would undo all the blonde had done to gain respect and prove to everyone that he was an adult. The second was merely the physical difference between the brothers now. For whatever reason, Ludwig was taller and much broader than his elder brother and Gilbert had often enough called the younger German a giant, especially after he had started to train as much as he did now. The blonde was becoming quite muscular. It would probably best not to crush the personification of Prussia while in Berlin. Bismarck would probably lock him away.

So rather than giving in to the physical desire, instead of giving way to instinct, Ludwig calmed himself and asked the logical question of, "Why?" while keeping his pleasure and joy hidden away secretly in his heart. These feelings were his and his alone, not to be shared. Private.

The other German stared at his brother for a moment before rolling his eyes. "Don't you think you can handle it?"

"_Nein_!" Ludwig replied hurriedly. "That's not what I meant. It's just that…well, ever since we formed the Empire, you have always been the one to—"

"Enough of this," Gilbert held up his hand, effectively silencing the other. "It's your time to shine, West." A light smile came upon the pale lips. "Better get going. Don't want to disappoint the Mad King, now do we?"

Smiling back, the blonde nodded, giving a salute, before tucking the orders from Bismarck into his chest pocket. Perhaps he had been too harsh these past few years. Perhaps he had been too impatient. Maybe Bismarck and the _Kaiser _had been right—of _course_ they were right!—maybe he had been too young to handle affairs thus far. But now he was not now it seemed. His training had paid off and he was finally getting some responsibilities, like he'd always wanted. It made the young man's heart swell with pride and adoration.

"I'll send word when I'm to return," the younger man replied as he mounted his horse, sitting up tall and straight in his saddle, the very model of discipline and poise.

The albino nodded. "_Auf Wiedersehen_," he waved.

And so, with a light heart and a strong conviction, Ludwig set off at a trot for Bavaria. His brother trusted him, trusted him to make things well, as did his _Kaiser _and Chancellor! He had not thought that this day would ever come, but it finally had! There was such a simple joy in following these orders, a joy which he kept to himself as he fought to remain controlled over his feelings. He had work to do, after all, and the young Empire would be damned before he let his leaders, his brother, down.

He would not.

Ever.

Unfortunately for the blonde, as he rode away happily, Bismarck came out from his hiding place to his own kingdom's personification, who was staring after his younger brother with concern. "Are you sure we should be letting him go alone?" Prussia asked once his Chancellor was beside him. "West's never handled diplomacy like this on his own before. Perhaps I should ride after him an—"

"Let him go, _Preuβen_," the old man said wisely. "You must see the logic in having the boy go on his own. Your presence would merely disrupt the peace."

"I'm the Empire as well, I hardly think that—"

"_Preuβen_," the Chancellor scolded again, lightly. "I understand and share your concerns, but you assured me that _Deutschland _is completely loyal to you."

"West _is _loyal to me," the albino sniffed indignantly. "Before he was even aware of what independence was, before he could even come to the conclusion of uniting himself, he has always, first and foremost, been loyal to _me_. I have seen to this from the time before Napoleon's defeat."

"Then we have nothing to fear with sending the boy to the south," Bismarck rationalized. "If he is as loyal as you say, he will not listen to politicians in the south about there being too much Prussian interference or say within the Empire. He will not be persuaded to see that we are…_bending_ certain promises of confederation law. Besides," the old man went on drily, "sending him there might create the illusion that he holds power within the Empire."

The nation turned to stare over at his Chancellor, guilt and satisfaction warring over his features to take precedence. "He will figure out what we're doing soon."

"Nonsense," Bismarck waved off his nation's fear and began walking back into the palace. Automatically, Prussia followed. "As long as we send him to take care of the domestic tasks, ones in which you may not be suitable with seeing to as some of the states are still resent our influence, then he will not be looking too far outside his lands, leaving you, _us, _to worry about relations with other nations."

Guilt was beginning to win over the Prussian nation as he turned to stare at his Chancellor. "West is part of the Empire as well…West _is _the Empire. He should have a say in the affairs outside of himself as well."

"I've told you this already, _Herr Preuβen_," Bismarck whispered sternly. "If both of you went to meet with the other nations, there would be, undoubtedly, two different opinions and interests warring between the two of you. Your brother is the whole, you are more for Prussia. In order to present a truly unified front, all nations must see that the Germans are united in everything. No weakness must be sensed. And seeing as you have experience with these politics, and it is from you that the _Kaiser_ line has been produced—"

"Yes, yes, I know all this already," the albino snapped, unsure about how he should be feeling. On the one hand, he liked the power, the prestige he had been granted after unifying with West. The boy's nearly overwhelming strength when united had not left the Prussian wholly unaffected. He was stronger now, perhaps not as strong as Ludwig, but certainly more than he had been before. He had more influence with the other nations, which he liked very much.

And fear.

The Empire was growing, strengthening itself, and ever since that first meeting where Germany had been introduced, the Prussian had noticed with obvious pleasure, the fear the young nation inspired in everyone. It had taken less than six years for the little boy everyone had known as one confederation or another and dismissed as nothing at all to grow into a massive specimen, a young man nearly as tall as Russia with the military discipline of the Prussians. He was sharp too, the other nations had quickly learned, intelligent enough to begin improving on Britain and France's ideas of modernity and yet as creative as Austria. Everything about West screamed efficiency, cried of superiority, and it was from this that the Prussian could glean reverence, get what he wanted.

Shaking his head of the vicious thoughts, Gilbert once more thought of how hard his younger brother worked, how hard the boy sought out respect on his own merits, not those of someone else. West believed that the power granted to him were from his older brother when the albino knew that it was really more of the reverse. Prussia would not be nearly as strong as he had become without the Empire, but it was also the Prussians who tamed and controlled the raw power that the rest of the Empire contained. It was a balancing act between the two brothers, one that Gilbert selfishly wished he could fervently claim more for his own, but he knew that should West will it, could throw everything more into his own hands.

As the albino remained quiet, Bismarck must have guessed what his thoughts were leaning towards, and he stopped their walking, making the nation look at him. "You know that from the very beginning my interests have been for you and you alone. Gaining your brother was merely a convenient means in securing you. I only ever supported unity because I knew that it would be in your best interest." Gilbert winced. "_Preuβen_, I have never led you wrong. Trust in me now, and soon you will see that I am right in this and everything else."

"But…West—"

"Trust me, _Preuβen_," Bismarck implored. "I have plans of more firmly securing your brother, but you must allow me this. Let me take control. Let me help you."

The two men stared at one another for a long moment before finally, the albino found himself nodding. How could he not when this human was only interested in his wellbeing? "Fine," he sighed. "Fine. But by doing this, you will be helping West too, _ja_? He is now your concern as well."

"Of course," Bismarck waved his nation off. "By worrying about you first and him second, it will solidify your unity and soon the German peoples will continue to rise above the rest of the world. And all you have to do is trust me now."

Leaders were known to make promises, promises that often times sounded too good to be true, but despite knowing this, Gilbert found himself believing the Chancellor. Bismarck had been true, he had never led Prussia wrong, and the albino had learned to trust the human's judgment. It was from the old man's quick thinking and solid politics that the Empire had even been founded. So despite the guilt and the feeling of wronging his younger brother, the albino found himself agreeing once more.

"Fine," he sighed. "Yes. I trust you. I trust that by doing this you _will _be helping my brother as well."

"Of course," the human nodded, smiling lightly. "Now come. You and I have to make plans for your trip down south, to Italy."

**oOoOoOo**

When Ludwig finally made it to Bavaria, he was thoroughly tuckered out. Finding the allusive Bavarian king was another journey all by itself without having to travel from Berlin, but the young nation finally found the king out in the mountains at one of the sites of his newest project: Linderhf.

Why the king was out here in the middle of the woods when the castle was not completely finished was beyond Germany's understanding, but then, he wasn't called "The Mad King" for nothing. Dismounting, he led his horse closer to the construction site, watching the workers as they labored with the stone, not even bothering to look up at him as he passed. He would have thought that they would be curious about him, seeing as he was in uniform, but then, what was a soldier when you had King Ludwig to constantly keep your mind occupied? No, they paid little attention to him, and the nation found it strangely refreshing.

Looking back the way he'd come, the blond couldn't help but appreciate the scenery. It truly was lovely here, and would have been completely serene had there not been construction behind him. Although King Ludwig was certainly eccentric, Germany found that he could understand the man, in part. How he, too, wished he could escape cities, just run off to be completely alone. He liked being alone, liked the solitude and the limitless freedom it offered. He snorted to himself, wondering if perhaps one day he might just take off without anyone knowing. Perhaps they would call _him _Mad Ludwig too. He didn't think he'd mind.

Eventually, one of the workers came over to him, when it was obviously apparent he wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon, and asked, "Is there something you want?"

Ludwig was a bit startled by the blunt question, but then wondered why. He knew of the culture outside of Berlin, could _feel _all of his different people and what they were like, but after being so long under his elder brother's care, surrounded by his brother's people all the time, switching cultures was momentarily surprising. "_Ja_," he nodded, taking off his helmet and placing it under his arm. "I'm looking for _König _Ludwig. Where might I find him?"

The human frowned distrustfully, securitizing the blonde before him. Ludwig took the time to do the same. This man was shorter than he was by quite a bit, with thick brown hair that was starting to grey and dark eyes. He was a sturdy looking man with broad shoulders and a heavy mustache that made the frown he wore more severe. His accent was thick, the dialect so vastly different than that which his brother's people spoke, that at times it was almost as though Ludwig had to speak a different language. He'd changed his accent to accommodate, matching the dialect, appearing as Bavarian as the mountains themselves. And when the human seemed to realize this, despite Ludwig's still northern looking features, the tension in his shoulders relaxed a bit.

"Who are you?" he asked, still not quite sure what to make of the soldier that had come from the north.

"_Herr Deutschland_," Ludwig answered quickly with a nod of his head.

At last, the human showed some surprise, and nodded back to his nation. Not a bow, oh no, this man was no politician, no aristocrat. This was a simple, hardworking man that lived by the sweat of his brow, that demanded respect if he was to give any, and Ludwig could appreciate that. He _did _appreciate that. "I'll show you to him," the man offered, and Ludwig nodded once more.

"_Danke_."

Within the section of the castle that was complete, Germany could see a servant bustling around anxiously, preparing tea. It was such an odd scene, especially in a building under construction, but when a loud voice echoed through the framework, the nation knew that he didn't have much farther to go before he found the king.

"Heinrich! Where is my tea?!"

As the worker and Germany passed, the nation gave the frantic servant a look, which was returned tiredly, allowing the blonde to see the exasperation that the poor man felt under his eccentric ruler. Once they saw the king, the worker excused himself, nodding once more to his nation in respect, before going back out to help his fellows. The servant, Heinrich, rushed past Germany, throwing him an apologetic look, before serving the king.

When King Ludwig turned around and saw Germany for the first time, a nasty smile crept up on the man's face, making the young nation more than a little uncomfortable, though he did not show it. "Well, well, well, what is this?" the king smirked. "One of the Prussian's little dogs come down to see me?"

For a moment, the blonde wondered how the king could have deduced that he'd been sent from Prussia, or that he had any connection with the north at all seeing as he wore the Bavarian green, but the king gave him an amused glance before pointedly staring at his neck. Immediately, Germany's hand flew to feel the Iron Cross around his neck, a proud Prussian symbol that had been a part of the northern culture since the Teutonic Knights. Not remembering that he'd worn it, the personification found himself embarrassed and annoyed with the royal before him, though he tried to push it aside.

"_Mein Herr_," Germany bowed politely.

It was not returned. Instead, the king turned his back to the large blonde behind him and took his tea in hand, before walking away to keep up his inspection. Rather stunned, Ludwig found himself following the human, anger bubbling up inside of him. While he did not wish to be treated like a royal, he at least wished to be acknowledged and respected. He deserved that much!

"I don't believe you know who I am," he growled, gaining the king's attention at last.

But when King Ludwig looked at him again, he didn't seem afraid that he'd upset his large visitor, but completely indifferent. "No," he admitted, "and I don't care to know."

Once more taken back by the reply, Germany became almost desperate to be acknowledged now, a feeling he did not like at all. "I am _Herr Deutschland_," he snapped, allowing his anger to filter through. This human needed to learn some respect, needed to know that he was not the most powerful being within the Empire. Far from it, actually. After all he and his brother had gone through to get to this point, Germany wanted to humble this insolent human, wanted to show his power…because he didn't want to let his brother down the first time he was off on his own.

The king still did not look all that impressed, though curiosity had finally come into his expression. "Is that so?" he asked, almost bored.

It made the blonde feel ashamed, but he pushed forward. "Yes," he stated firmly, making sure he looked as opposing as possible. "I am."

The nation waited for the human to apologize, waited for him to ask polite questions even, but once again, was disappointed. "I knew it was only a matter of time before the _Saupreuβen _sent someone down in all their _majestic _glory," he mocked.

Although the insult was not truly describing him, as there was still a very strong separation from him and the Prussians, it still angered the blonde. Any slight against his brother was not acceptable to him, even if it was ingrained into the culture of some of his southern people. Insulting Prussia was simply _not acceptable _especially after all Gilbert had done to unite the Germans!

"Watch your tongue," Germany snapped, allowing a militant tone to ring through the incomplete structure. "You are not to insult _Herr Preuβen _in such a way."

Instead of becoming fearful as everyone always did when Germany used that tone, instead of even meekly apologizing for overstepping his boundaries, King Ludwig simply burst out laughing. He laughed right into the face of Germany. Next to the king, Heinrich began making distance between himself and his ruler. The blonde, however, stayed rooted in place, not comprehending what was going on.

Once more, shame and embarrassment flooded through the young German, which was followed swiftly by anger. "Stop that!" he snarled. "What is wrong with you?"

At last, the human sovereign seemed to gain some composure over himself as he smiled up at his nation, still giggling. "_Es tut mir leid_," he said not at all sincerely. "I just find it humorous to hear such a good Bavarian accent speaking well of a Prussian…I don't think that's happened since…ever." He began laughing once more.

Ludwig stared at the human incredulously for another moment, his mind not properly digesting what was happening, before suddenly, the king's logic stuck in his mind, and for an instant, he almost found himself laughing along with the human. Truly, the more he thought about it, the funnier it was, because King Ludwig was right. Had there _ever _been a time when a Bavarian had spoken warmly about a Prussian?

_What the hell is wrong with me? _The young nation had to wonder. His emotions had swung all over the place since meeting the king. King Ludwig really was mad…and he was taking his nation with him, apparently.

Becoming more frustrated with himself, and therefore more angry, Germany straightened his shoulders and stood as tall as he could. He was tired of playing around here. He had a mission to complete and he was wasting time. This would _not _do. He didn't care what this king thought of him anymore, as it was not truly important. The only leaders that were important were the _Kaiser _and the Chancellor.

"I came here with a purpose," Ludwig's voice became clipped, his militant tone sounding harsher with the southern accent. "Now, you _will _talk to me so that I may report back to Berlin and assure them that you aren't going to cause any trouble."

The king seemed surprised by the harshness of his nation, but covered it quickly, sobering. This pleased Germany. "I see," the human began. "I am merely planning my castles, as you see," he gestured around him. "No harm done. I have not the grand ambitions as those vultures in Berlin, so they needn't worry."

A pause overcame both the king and the personification as they looked each other over more critically. "Now fly, little bird, back to your masters in the north."

"I have no masters," Germany snapped, embarrassed again by the king's words. Why could this man make him feel like such a child?

As though reading Ludwig's thoughts, the king laughed. "You think so? You are a Prussian slave," the mad-man snarled. "You are the Empire, yet what have _you_ accomplished? They've made you into nothing more than a glorified errand boy."

"I am _not_—!" Germany began thunderously, but was cut off.

"Think what you want," the king casually took a sip of his tea, "but that doesn't make what I've said any less true. Despite what everyone thinks of me, I _have _been watching the north, and all I've seen is Prussian expansion. No, not them taking over more land perhaps, but they've been busy taking _you _over. I wouldn't be surprised that if in a few years, that '_brother_'of yours didn't just replace you completely."

The young nation stood in complete shocked. He was dumbstruck, and even though in his heart of hearts he wished to scream at the human, tell him that it wasn't true, that Gilbert would _never _do such a thing, he couldn't. He couldn't because something held his tongue. He'd had his doubts about his brother ever since the formation of the Empire. He'd had his doubts, and hearing King Ludwig speak was like the darkest, most morbid recesses of his mind had been personified into the king's voice.

Yet Ludwig wouldn't believe them. He couldn't believe them. It would destroy him. So, instead, Germany hardened his heart and nodded to the king, showing the respect that was owed him, but not flattering. "Perhaps it was best if I were to be going now," the nation said coldly, eyeing the human with his hard stare. "I'll leave you to your building projects."

For the first time since seeing the royal, King Ludwig finally appeared nervous before his nation. Apparently the human could take the yelling and the hot tempers, but a cold fury was almost too much. But he managed to hold his bearing, and actually bowed his head to his nation in an unusual sign of respect that the blonde had not been expecting from this man. "That's all I want."

With one finally nod, Ludwig turned on his heels and stalked out of the half-finished castle. Without another look back, he mounted his horse and took off through the woods. He fished out the paper from Bismarck, looked over the list of things he'd wanted the blonde to talk about with King Ludwig for a moment. It suddenly looked like nothing more than an interrogation list. In a fit of disgusted anger, he crumpled up the paper and threw it as far as he could in the woods. Let the animals have it! He'd done his job. He'd come here to find out what King Ludwig was doing and he did. All the crazy human wanted was to build his castles in peace and not be bothered.

Now it was Ludwig's turn to go back to Berlin where he could be at peace with no Mad King to whisper poisonous words of doubt in his ear. His brother was good. His brother was _awesome_. Gilbert wouldn't completely take over him. Everything was great! Everything was fine.

So then why did Ludwig feel as though he were riding towards darkness?

* * *

**Author's Note:**Hello again! I'm back from the dead. Sorry about not updating in forever, but life's been pretty hectic and chaotic for me lately at university and then planning a wedding and stuff. Hopefully I'll find more time to write this semester more than last.

The good news is that for my senior thesis in history, I wrote about a 30-40 page paper about the steps towards German Unification, and received top marks! :D So rest assured, pretty much all of the facts I used in that paper were facts I'd used in this story, so if a doctor in history who got his PhD in studying Germany as well gave me an "A" then you can rest assured that this story is as historically accurate as possible while still being an interesting story. :)

**History Notes: **While Bismarck fought to unify the German states, he did have a rather ulterior motive which doesn't always get looked at in schools. For Bismarck, Prussia was the most important thing to him. He wanted to unite the German states so that they could form a protective boundary _around _Prussia, and share resources with Prussia to build up the kingdom. Basically he wanted satellite states around Prussia, similar to Stalin having the Baltics, Ukraine, etc., as satellite states around the Russia. While he was a great German hero and would work to ensure the prosperity throughout the Empire, it should be noted that he wasn't as saintly as he appeared.

Also, because he wanted Prussia on top, he messed with the politics as well. You see, the German Empire was just another confederation. There were still other kingdoms, like Bavaria, other kings and dukes. They all wanted to keep their power and the title of _Kaiser _was more honorary and wasn't _supposed _to have much power behind it. The states still wanted their own freedoms. Of course, that wasn't going to fly with Bismarck, and through various loopholes and bending of rules, he was pushing for a Prussian power play and eventually manipulated the system enough so that Prussia was looked to as the head. Nor on that later.

Mad King Ludwig II of Bavaria…I just wanted to include him in here somehow. :P As stated, he was building the Linderhf Castle at this time…not sure if he actually oversaw the building project themselves, but, eh, this is a story, and I wanted to have some fun. :D

**German: **_Es tut mir leid_- I'm sorry. (lit: It gives me sorrow). _Saupreuβen_- pig-Prussians. (Insult still used today in Bavaria). You should know the rest…

'**Nother Note: **If you have any comments, concerns, complaints, please let me know, I'd love to hear from ya'll. I really appreciate everyone who takes the time to read and review. It gives me the greatest pleasure, especially if this ends up helping some of you in your history classes. XD

The Great War is coming up fast, everyone, so get ready for some massive sadness in the chapters to come.


	34. Chapter 30: The End of Innocence

**Chapter Thirty: The End of Innocence**

**March 1888**

Prussia couldn't understand it. It was that simple. After all the work he'd done over the years, after all he'd fought and _bled _for, there were still those ungrateful in the world that tried to ruin the perfect empire that that albino had striven to create, namely those Social Democrats, or that's what Bismarck had told him. Even with their ban several years back, the Prussian still wondered if there were some still around causing trouble for him. It didn't help that the _Kaiser_ had been quite ill lately either.

Looking up from the alliance agreements between them and Russia, Gilbert saw his brother looking over the welfare policies that Bismarck had given him to review. The younger man's face was set in stone; a severe expression of concentration adorned his features, a look that still had the elder brother cringing on the inside every time he saw it. West had certainly grown up.

Yes, West had grown up, and that was simply the way of things. Prussia couldn't have been prouder of his little brother if he tried, and he _did _try. Germany was just about as perfect a nation as anyone could be. His brother was strong, fierce, protective, intelligent, and overall just the best, most awesome thing ever! …Well, besides _Prussia_ that is, but a close second was truly impressive. Together they were creating something here, something that everyone in the future would one day look to and recognize as special, better than all the rest. It wasn't misplaced pride, it was fact. German might and influence was just too overwhelming now to ignore. They were the best in the world, a true light to everyone else, and Gilbert couldn't have been more pleased with his station in life. Gone were the tormented, lonely days of barely scrapping by to survive, the arguing with all the other German personifications. It was just him and West now, as it always should have been. He couldn't help but wonder if their father was proud of them yet…

Germania had to be, Gilbert decided. After over sixty years of struggle to unity, and even seventeen years into their joint empire, the German Empire was thriving. The German economy was booming, their technology was topnotch, and they had the best military in the world. Their people were well and happy, especially with all of these welfare policies that Bismarck was implementing. Yes, everything was going their way. _Everything_…but Gilbert found himself unhappy.

Peaking over at his brother's face again, the albino frowned, his heart weighing heavily. He was unhappy because his brother was unhappy. For years now West had been unhappy. He thought the blonde would get better once a few years together had smoothed over and they could settle into a peaceful sort of rhythm with each other, but that never happened. Even seventeen years into their partnership, the younger German still didn't seem happy. It was like…it was like Ludwig desperately wanted to be happy, but couldn't, and was trying to hide his sorrow. It didn't make any sense to Gilbert, though it made perfect sense to Prussia.

Germany was unhappy with the distribution of power. That was the only thing that could cause the blonde to behave this way. Bismarck would send West out into the Empire and meet with the other rulers and each time he returned, he seemed gloomier and gloomier. The assassination attempts on the _Kaiser's_ life ten years ago hadn't helped much either. Ever since then, his brother had seemed on edge around the _Kaiser_, was always watching warily as non-Prussians or non-northerners got near the human. It was sad actually, Ludwig didn't seem comfortable in the north nor the south, neither the east nor the west. It was almost as though he didn't even belong in his own Empire.

But the Chancellor still would not hear of having the blonde leave the Empire. Official foreign policy was handled by Prussia. And what a time he had of it too! Balancing alliances between both Russia and Austria was getting rather exhausting, especially since the other two empires had had their falling out. It left the Germans in the middle, a place Prussia didn't like much at all, but it seemed Bismarck was able to handle…with some work, that is.

But as time went on, Gilbert began to suspect that maybe it would do his brother good to get out of their territory once and a while. Even though he hated the idea of it, the albino was almost desperately considering having some sort of dinner party with Austria, if just to get his brother some other national company. Perhaps he could create some sort of occasion in which to show off to his former rivals— maybe have him look at all of his awesome troops again— but still get West the change of scenery he needed? It might be worth it. Besides, he didn't want his little brother mad at him or resenting him too much.

Without having a plan of any sort, the albino slammed down the document he was reading, causing the younger man to jump, icy eyes snapping up from their own reading. "Let's do something!" the elder German exclaimed, standing.

Ludwig frowned, eyeing his brother not unlike if he'd suddenly turned into a giant beetle. "What?"

"Let's do something, West!" Gilbert said again, already running around the table to grab his brother's arm, tugging the bigger man up.

"W-what are you doing?" the blonde cried, his face turning red with agitation. It was so funny that even as an adult his little brother still couldn't hide a blush. It was cute, and reminded the albino that this giant lug was still his same, sweet baby brother.

"We're going out!" Gilbert dragged his brother towards the door. "We've been indoors too long."

"I meant what are we going to do outside?" Ludwig snapped. "We still have work to do!"

The albino rolled his eyes. "We _always _have work to do. You can't just do work all the time. Sometimes you have to get out, see the world, have some entertainment."

Despite his sputtering protests of wanting to stay and finish, the demands of his brother to let him go, Ludwig did not really resist, causing the older German to smirk. Even a workaholic like West wanted distraction sometimes in their life. The boy had been working too hard lately with everything else going on in the Empire, and it'd been a while since the two brothers had really done anything other than work together. They hadn't even gone out drinking in some time, a tragedy that Gilbert desperately wanted to remedy. Ever since being properly introduced to beer some years back, West had taken to it like duck to water. The albino chuckled to himself as he remembered the pure look of wonder and awe the blonde had worn the moment his lips had been set to a glass of _Bitburger_, there was no going back. Beer was now the drink of choice, as it should be.

Instead of going to the gardens, or even on the palace grounds, Gilbert ran with his brother's hand still in his, through the halls, across the grounds, until they were outside on the street. Blackie had apparently spotted his master and had raced after the two brothers, intent on making sure his master was safe while with the albino. Even though Gilbert couldn't prove it, he had the sneaking suspicion that the dog didn't trust him with Ludwig. Which was absurd since if it hadn't been for _him _that stupid mutt wouldn't even be West's pet in the first place!

But he didn't let the thought bother him at the moment. Right now, he was making a mad dash in the streets of Berlin with a giant blonde and a dog in tow while dressed in their best uniforms. They were probably a pretty strange sight, and Prussia couldn't help but laugh. Oh how confused all the humans must be! He didn't care at all, and was intent on finding something that would distract him and his brother.

He was racing towards one of his favorite taverns when suddenly Ludwig stopped. Cold. The abrupt halt caused the elder German to gall backwards, hitting hard against his brother, who remained standing. Gilbert likened the experience to colliding with a rock.

"_Scheiβe_! What the hell, West?" he growled, wondering how on earth his brother had been able to survive the impact of a Prussian slamming into him. _Stupid boy_, he thought, grudgingly impressed at his brother's strength.

Ludwig didn't say anything, but kept looking back, his face hard until he whistled a sharp, clear note that sliced through the air. Almost immediately, Blackie immerged from the crowd, panting as he trotted up to his master. The blonde knelt down and patted his pet on the head, a soft smile coming to his lips. "_Es tut mir leid_," he said gently. "We didn't mean to leave you behind."

It was almost comical how tender the blonde was with his pet seeing as he was anything but tender with anything else, but it also made Gilbert smile. His little brother might have adopted a severe appearance, acted like a dispassionate brute, but he truly _was _still that little boy he'd saved out in the woods. There was still a gentleness to his brother that strangely comforted the albino, especially since he hadn't seen much of it lately.

Gilbird hopped down from his head at that moment, apparently having woken from the impact with the German, and Gilbert petted the tiny creature mindlessly as he watched his brother scratch under his dog's chin and behind the ears. The dog panted happily as it seemed to smile up at the big man. Ludwig returned the smile, before standing upright, staring at his brother expectantly.

"Right," Gilbert stood a little straighter, looking around. "Something to do…"

"You really didn't have an idea?" the younger man frowned, looking exasperated though there was fondness in it.

"I just said I wanted to get out, not that I knew what we could do," Gilbert shrugged, looking around until his eyes caught sight of a pretty woman standing by a produce cart. "You know," he smirked. "Maybe I'm hungry."

Ludwig followed his brother's eyes and blushed, turning away. "You don't even know her," he muttered.

"Yeah, but I'm about to," he grinned, elbowing the younger man. "Watch and learn, _Westen_, watch and learn."

Once more, the blonde was reduced to a sputtering ball of nerves as Gilbert sauntered over to the cart where a pretty young woman with brown locks braided under her silk scarf was standing trying to sell her produce. As he approached, she turned big blue eyes up to him. They widened for a moment, as everyone's did when they took in his lack of pigmentation, before she smiled ever so slightly at him. "_Guten Tag_, _mein Herr_," she greeted. "Can I help you with anything?"

Casually, Gilbert looked over the produce, noticing vegetables along with some fruit, and pretended to make a thorough investigation over a head of cabbage he picked up. "Yes, actually," he continued to ignore her questioning gaze. "I was wondering if you might tell me your name."

He looked up and smiled charmingly at her, enjoying her surprised look. "O-oh," she blushed prettily. "I…um…I'm not sure why you'd want to know," she giggled uneasily, though Gilbert could tell she was pleased with his attentions.

"Why _wouldn't _I want to know the name of the pretties girl in town?" he leaned over, smiling down at her, hoping her eyes caught on all of his metals…though she'd have to be blind not to.

Again, the girl giggled, her face nearly completely scarlet, reminding the albino of his brother, before she found the courage to meet the albino's eyes again. "I don't know," she admitted. "Though I'm certainly _not _the prettiest girl in town."

"Nonsense!" Gilbert leaned his elbow on the cart, catching the accent that came from just outside of Berlin. "Come now, what's your name?"

From his peripheral vision, the elder German saw his brother was bright red, and looked like he was going to explode from embarrassment. It made flirting with the girl just that much more fun. After a moment of indecision, the girl finally answered, still a pretty shade of pink. "My name is Elsie."

"Elsie!" Gilbert cried, smiling widely, hoping he was still being charming and didn't end up scaring her. His smiles sometimes sent people into fits of outrageous fear. He never really understood that… "What a lovely name!"

She flushed again, before looking up with those dark blues of hers. "A-and who might you be, Sir?" she asked coyly.

Puffing out his chest a bit, unable to help the pride he felt, as his nation was full of nationalists that never ceased to fill his head with flattery and praise, Gilbert stood up straight, bowing to the girl, delighted to hear her pleased giggles. "Forgive me, my lady. I am the Kingdom of Prussia, at your service."

All pleasure visibly drained from the girl's face as did her color. "_P-Preuβen_? _H-Herr Preuβen_?"

Gilbert smirked. "Is there any other?"

That didn't seem to help the girl's anxiety, and she began twisting her apron fitfully, apparently more afraid of who and what he was rather than his personality. He should have expected this, most women acted this way, so he wasn't really put out, but at the same time, he was tired of this reaction, and he watched almost sadly as she curtseyed to him, bowing her head. "F-forgive me, my lord, I-I didn't know…I mean how could I…D-did you want something?" she gestured to the produce. "Please, t-take anything you'd like, _mein Herr_, i-it's all free." She held out the head of cabbage he'd been looking at.

Determined not to let this conquest go, Gilbert continued his steady smile, he pushed her hands down, watching as she shuddered at the contact, not disgusted, but seemingly surprised and disgusted with _herself._ Poor girl. "Thank you for the offer, but I think I'll decline," he smirked. "So where do you come from?"

"Moabit," she answered truthfully, all flirtation gone from her as she spoke with honest respect for her nation. It both pleased and frustrated Gilbert.

"Ah, yes. I can hear that now," he nodded. "I helped come up with the idea of Moabit, you know."

"I'm sure, _mein Herr_," she nodded readily. "It's a great place to live, too!"

Gilbert realized he probably wasn't going to get anywhere with her now that she was like this. It was certainly appropriate for a human to revere and adore their nation, but it was dreadfully bothersome when wanting to make stronger connections. She no longer seemed interested in his attentions as a man, just as a nation, and he thought that perhaps it was for the best. He was just thinking of retreat, when something behind him moved.

Suddenly, West was beside him, the blonde having gotten over his morbid embarrassment to find his courage to walk over. Elsie eyed him, and paled once more, probably coming to the correct assumption that this was Prussia's brother. But before the girl could speak, or stutter around, Ludwig was already pointing to something. "Is that your dog?" he asked, eyes down on the ground to stare near the girl's feet.

Elise blinked a moment, before looking down to where a rather fat Doberman was lying, tied near the cart. Why hadn't Gilbert noticed it before? It was probably there to help protect the girl. "Oh! Y-yes, she's mine."

Ludwig was keeping Blackie from getting too interested in the other dog, but he seemed quite fascinated in the other animal himself. "What's her name?" he asked.

"We just call her Traute," Elsie smiled down at the dog, who was eyeing Blackie warily. "And yours?" she asked. "I've never seen a dog quite like him before…it is a him?"

"Yes," Ludwig nodded, looking a little less severe than normal, probably because he was actually enjoying the conversation. "_Mein Bruder _got him for me years ago. He's just a mutt," he shrugged. "He looks like a shepherd dog though."

"I think so too," the girl smiled.

"I call him Blackie."

"That's a good name," Elsie agreed. "He seems like a good guard dog."

"He is for the most part," Ludwig agreed, smiling down at his pet. "Though I'm afraid he gets spoiled by the servants sometimes."

Elise laughed. Gilbert was shocked. He'd been hoping to get the girl to loosen up with casual conversation, yet somehow Ludwig had gotten the girl to laugh while mentioning the fact that he lived in the palace! Unbelievable!

"Is she pregnant?" Ludwig asked, squatting down beside the female dog, holding out his hand so that she could sniff it, yet not close enough so that he'd get bitten.

"Yes, actually," the girl nodded, squatting down also. "How did you know?"

Ludwig shrugged. "She just sort of…looks like it, a little bit. How long before she has puppies?"

"We think around another six weeks or so," Elise stroked her dog's long pointed ear, looking at the large man across from her thoughtfully. "Would you like a puppy, _Herr Deutschland_?"

The blonde looked up, surprised, his icy eyes taking on an excited sort of light, one that was often muted when he was around the palace or working. It made the older German want to groan. "May I?"

Elise smiled broadly. "Of course!" she nodded enthusiastically. "I was getting worried about what we would do with the little ones once they were born. I'm glad to know that at least one will go to a good home."

For his part, the younger blonde smiled back, just a little, tiny smile, the first one he offered since talking to the girl, as he offered her a hand up. "Yes, I would like one very much, if I may. I think it would be good for Blackie to have a companion."

Gilbert snorted, not liking being ignored. At all. "Does that mean I can get Gilbird a friend?"

The other two didn't listen to him. Or hadn't heard him. Neither was acceptable. "Of course, of course!" Elsie nodded again, blushing slightly as she released Ludwig's hand. "Though it would take several weeks after it's born before I could give it to you."

"Certainly," Ludwig nodded. "I wouldn't want to take it away from its mother too soon."

"Would you like a male or female?"

"Either."

"Male!" Gilbert interjected, finally gaining his brother and the girl's attention. "I'm _not _having a million little fluffy things running all around."

Ludwig threw an apologetic look Elsie's way mixed with exasperation. "A male, I suppose would be best."

Elise smiled sheepishly, giggling a bit. "Very well. I sell produce here every weekend, perhaps in …about twelve weeks?"

The Empire nodded as happily as he would allowed himself to show. "That would be fine," he nodded. "I look forward to seeing you again, _Fraulein _Elise, was it?"

The girl blushed, smiling happily, causing Gilbert to stiffen in indignation. "_J-ja_. And…please don't feel like you have to wait until then. Perhaps you'd like to come see how Traute is doing?"

Prussia was floored. His baby brother, his sweet, innocent baby brother had just had a girl come on to him, flirt with him, without even having to try! Gilbert wasn't sure if he should be proud or jealous. Usually women liked his advances, but apparently they liked talking about dogs too…or was it strong blonde men? Either way, his baby brother had the strong possibility of getting his first taste of love if he wasn't careful, and Gilbert wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Ever oblivious, however, Ludwig nodded readily. "I would like that. Do you mind if I bring Blackie with me? Perhaps I could help him get his exercise by talking him out this way."

"Of course," Elise smiled, more confidently this time.

"Very well," Ludwig nodded firmly. "Then I will see you again sometime."

"Goodbye, _Herr Deutschland_," she waved, beaming. "Oh! _Herr Preuβen_," she turned back to Gilbert, her features more reverent when she faced him. "It was an honor to meet you, _mein Herr_."

Frustrated, Gilbert forced a smile, and nodded, saying a quick farewell, before he and his brother were once again walking, Blackie trotting along beside his master happily. When they were far enough away, Ludwig glanced his brother's way, without actually turning his head, a slight frown marring his features. "Please don't ever do that in front of me again," he scolded. "That poor girl was just trying to sell produce."

The albino stared at the taller man incredulously. "Whatever. Without me you wouldn't have gotten a puppy."

Surprisingly, Ludwig turned and grinned at his brother, a toothy, cheeky grin. "I really wanted a puppy, _Bruder_."

Seeing such an expression of carefree recklessness caused the albino to start laughing. Maybe they were brothers after all! It was always so hard to tell when they acted so differently. "Why didn't you tell me, _Bruderlein_? _Bruder _would've gotten you one."

The younger man shook his head, still smiling amusedly. "That's all right. I didn't want to inconvenience you."

It was said lightheartedly, but it caused Gilbert to freeze for a moment. Inconvenience? Surely West didn't really think he was some sort of inconvenience, did he? But before he could say anything, suddenly, Ludwig stopped walking yet again, his blue eyes wide as he stared at…_something_.

Before Gilbert could ask, Ludwig was walking briskly over to a strange sort of carriage, where there was a rich looking gentleman standing next to it. A crowd had gathered near it, though the people only stopped a moment before moving on. It was such a strange looking device, and the albino wondered about it, not quite trusting it. He thought he'd heard about something like this, but he couldn't quite remember when or where.

Ludwig surprisingly marched right up to the gentleman and nodded his head respectfully. "Excuse me, is this a _Motorwagen_?" he asked, there was a certain degree of awe in his eyes, that the Prussian was sure he was the only one to truly take notice.

"Why, yes it is," the gentleman nodded. "And you are?"

"_Herr Deutschland_," Germany nodded again, though his eyes went right back to the bizarre device, not noticing how the human gasped in surprise. "I'm sorry, but my I look it over?" the young Empire asked, blue eyes riveted on the device.

Prussia came up beside his brother, and the human seemed to recognize Prussia and bowed deeply to him. "Certainly, _mein Herr_!" the man offered. "You may sit inside it too, if you'd like."

Not even the promise of beer could have made Ludwig's eyes light up like that, and though it was obvious he was restraining himself, the blonde nearly jumped in the second the offer was given, and sat behind the wheel, eyeing all of the controls and levers.

"Impressive," he nodded, his lips just slightly upturned. "How does it work?"

"If you'll allow me?"

Without further ado, the man showed them everything. He showed them how to control the strange wagon first, what the levers did, before pointing out the mechanics of the engine. West, it seemed, had a knack for the mechanical. He always had really, and he picked up on what the human was telling him faster than Gilbert, already talking the human into ideas for possible improvements that could be tested later. Gilbert, too, voiced several of his own opinions, but it seemed West was truly having fun talking to _Herr _Benz, much more than talking to Elsie. The albino suspected it was because the blonde had been more interest in the dogs than the girl. He decided to just let the blonde be to have his fun.

At last, an offer came, one that Gilbert knew would not be refused, when the human asked happily, "Would you like to drive it?" It didn't take a genius to see how badly West wanted to, especially when those blue eyes light up like a bonfire.

Without a moment's pause, Ludwig jumped in and was at the wheel. _Herr _Benz and Gilbert just barely got in, Blackie having hoped in along with Germany, before the vehicle was away. The machine roared to life, and took off much faster than the albino would have thought possible…apparently Benz was having the same ideas, as he held on to his hat. The strange wagon took off, startling people as Ludwig weaved in and out of the crowd.

Rationally, Gilbert knew that this machine was not going any faster than a horse could go, but at the same time, it felt strange, and he felt his heart racing as his little brother recklessly steered the _Motorwagen _all about. "_H-Herr Deutschland?!_" Benz cried.

"West! Slow down!" Gilbert yelled, not sure he liked this new invention.

To the pleas, all the passengers received was a wild smile from Germany. It was terrifying. And instead of slowing down, West seemed to go _faster_, laughing as he went. In the back, Gilbert hugged onto Blackie, who also didn't seem to appreciate his master's behavior at the moment. But even the dog's whining didn't stop the big German from slowing down to a more steady speed.

Finally the vehicle stopped outside of the palace before Ludwig slowed to a stop and jumped out, smiling as he looked the _Motorwagen _over again,. Benz looked freaked out for a moment, before smiling as well, laughing out his anxiety. "Well now!" he exclaimed. "I hadn't taken her so fast before! Splendid!"

"Indeed!" Ludwig agreed readily, Blackie jumping out of the machine quickly, looking a bit ill, but obediently walking to his master's leg. Ludwig bent over and patted the dog's head. "It's such a marvelous machine."

Benz took on a thoughtful expression. "You know, I'm making these to sell now," he began conversationally. "If the palace would want one…"

"Yes!" the blonde smiled quickly. "I mean, I would have to see what the _Kaiser _and perhaps _Herr _Bismarck would have to say, but I am interested certainly."

"You _want _one of these…things?" Gilbert snorted.

Ludwig turned serious eyes upon his brother. "Yes."

"But what about, Adler? He'd be disappointed if you ignored him in favor of this thing," the albino frowned.

Ludwig paused, looking thoughtful as he contemplated the feelings of his horse. The big man had such a soft spot for animals, he hoped that it would deter the man from wanting such a strange device. _He _certainly didn't want to get in one of those things again until he was sure it was safe!

"I'm sure he'd be happy for the rest every once and a while," Ludwig answered at last, before turning to Benz. "I'd like to be in touch."

"Of course," the gentleman nodded before shaking hands.

As Benz left, the two brothers watched as the _Motorwagen _drove off, the guards all staring at it as it went off, mesmerized by the vehicle. Ludwig watched, scratching his dog's ears. Gilbert turned to look at his serious little brother, frowning. Their outing hadn't gone like he'd thought it would, and he was just beginning to wonder if it had been worth leaving the office, when Ludwig turned to look at him, a large grin spread across his face. "Thank you for today, _Bruder_," he said sincerely. "It was very enjoyable."

Smiling back, the albino clasped his brother's shoulder, shaking him a bit in a fond gesture. "You're welcome, West. All praise is acceptable to the Awesome Prussia."

The blonde was just rolling his eyes when one of the guards rushed forward, face drawn in anxiousness. "Sirs," he said uneasily. "Come quickly… Kaiser Wilhelm is…unwell."

The two brothers looked over at each other before taking off into the palace.

**oOoOoOo**

**15 June 1888**

It was chaos, all bloody chaos. Ludwig stood staring at the body of the dead _Kaiser_, not knowing what to do. It just didn't seem fair that this was happening again, happening so soon after the first time. The young nation watched as the doctors closed the _Kaiser's_ eyes, proclaiming him dead officially. He glanced at the side to see his brother's face was grim.

"_I cannot die…What would happen to Germany?" _the Kaiser had said a month ago, but it seems despite his struggle, he had lost. Next to the bed, his wife, Victoria, wept quietly.

"_Kaiser_ Friedrich III is dead," Bismarck declared quietly. "Long live _Kaiser _Wilhelm II."

Ludwig turned his attention to the young man standing next to the bed, tears in his eyes. For a moment, the blonde wondered what indeed would become of him now that this man was in charge rather than Friedrich. What would happen to him? He had a bad feeling about this.

The doctors left, leaving only the royal family, Bismarck, and the two nations alone. The former empress looked up, and threw herself into Prussia's arms first, hugging him tightly, before turning to the blonde and squeezing him as well. It made Ludwig extremely uneasy having to provide comfort to the distressed woman, but after only a moment, she let go before turning to her son, who kept staring at his father's body. Bismarck gave the two personifications a look and they knew what he meant. They turned and left.

The two disheartened nations walked out of the family chamber, and went down the hall silently. Neither felt much like talking. They had just lost another leader. After only ninety-nine days after his father, _Kaiser_ Friedrich III had died. It had been stressful enough when Wilhelm had gone, and now with Friedrich…to be honest, Ludwig wasn't sure that the young Wilhelm could handle the pressures of ruling.

They exited the palace together and went to sit on the front steps of the palace. It was an unspoken agreement, neither having to say anything, but they both wanted to be somewhere where no one would think to look for them. The guards never ratted them out, and were usually silent, but good company. Sometimes it was good to be around people, but not having to speak. It was companionable, but not annoying.

Staring at his feet, Ludwig's view was suddenly filled with the muzzle of a brown fur, and concerned brown eyes. The young man smiled, patting his dog's head, appreciating the offered comfort, especially since he hadn't asked for it. That's why he liked animals. They knew when you needed them, and didn't pity you. Just loved you. That's why dogs were his preferred companions.

"Hey, West," Gilbert's voice was neutral, and when he turned to look at the albino, he was looking away, stroking Gilbird. "We haven't been on a walk for a while…wanna go see Elsie?"

Ludwig frowned thoughtfully, before nodding. "_Ja_…let's go."

As the two brother wandered through the streets, they didn't say anything, just walked. Blackie went in between the two of them, extending his concern to include the albino, obviously believing that perhaps just this once, the ender brother might want a lick or two. For once, Gilbert didn't try to pretend that he didn't like the attention. Instead, he'd just pat the dog, before sending him closer to Ludwig. The blonde couldn't help the small smile that came to his face.

When they reached Elsie's booth, the girl was there, her eyes lighting up once she saw them coming. "_Hallo_!" she called out merrily. She didn't know that just moment ago, her Emperor had died.

Gilbert, though was able to rally his spirits and smile at the girl. "_Guten Tag, Fraulein._ How are you?"

"Very good," she beamed. "I've got someone who's anxious to meet you, _Herr Deutschland_," she smiled at Ludwig.

The blonde suddenly remembered his agreement with the girl. He'd forgotten over the last several weeks when the _Kaiser_ had fallen so ill. He looked over at his brother, and saw a knowing smirk on his lips. That's why he'd wanted to go on a walk now. Gilbert really was the best brother in the world.

Lengthening his strides, Ludwig was next to the girl in the next minute. "Did you…did you bring him?"

Elsie smiled. "I sure did," she nodded, bending over to pick up a small black bundle of fur. There, looking annoyed, was a fat Doberman puppy, staring up at Germany as if the human was the source of his discomfort. It only served to amuse the big man as he lifted it from the girl's arms.

"Hello, _kleiner_," he couldn't help but grin. The puppy, coming out of his irritated state, became curious of the big man. "Aren't you a fat little one?" The puppy responded by trying to lick his nose.

Next to him, Gilbert came over, smiling, scratching his ears. "Hey, mutt," he poked the little snout. "You like your new owner, huh?"

Blackie started to whine next to him, so Ludwig crouched down, holding the puppy against him, ready to stand should the older dog try to bite. As it turned out, Blackie just sniffed the puppy inquisitively. The puppy, beginning to become excited, just started licking at the other dog too, his little stump of a tail wiggling uncontrollably. A chuckle escaped Germany.

"Well, I think they like each other," Gilbert nodded approvingly. "Guess you can keep him, West."

Ludwig stood, staring down tenderly at the puppy. "_Ja_…_Danke_, Elsie. He'll have a good home."

The human smiled affectionately. "I know he will. I hope you like him."

"I do. Very much."

"What are you going to call him?" Gilbert asked.

Ludwig thought a moment, holding the puppy up, looking in his dark eyes. The puppy squirmed, becoming anxious again. "Berlitz," he said at last.

The albino smiled broadly. "I like it."

"Hopefully he'll grow up to make a good dog for you," Elsie smiled at her nation cuddling the small animal.

"He will," Ludwig nodded confidently. "He will."

And as he and his brother bid farewell to Elsie, and they walked back to the palace with Blackie running around between them and a puppy in his arms, Ludwig wanted to believe that everything would be all right now. Perhaps his worrying about the new _Kaiser _was for not. Perhaps Wilhelm would surprise and exceed all expectations.

He hoped.

* * *

**Author's Note: **More for you, yay! A sweeter chapter again before the real trouble begins.

**History Notes: **The Social Democrats, a group Bismarck despised greatly. They were leftists that challenged the traditional government and eventually tried to assassinate Kaiser Wilhelm twice in 1878. Bismarck, being the "Iron Chancellor" and all, had them ban.

As you figured out in the story, Kaisers Wilhelm I and Friedrich III were father and son, and died the same year, Friedrich only 99 days after his father, and was secede by his son, Wilhelm II, who most of us know was REALLY weird…but more on him later. The thoughts of Friedrich is a quote from Friedrich, as he was disappointed that he got sick and couldn't do anything.

The _Motorwagen _was the first vehicles ever made, created by Karl Benz in 1886. He started selling them in 1888…So begins Germany's love of cars~

Moabit- a suburb outside of Berlin.

**German: **Traute-Trusted (just a name I thought was cute for a guard dog).

'**Nother Note: **Again, WWI is coming up soon! With the instance of Kaiser Wilhelm, the war is just around the corner. Prepare yourselves, everyone, because the chapters may go up in rating due to future graphic detail. Just a warning. But please leave a review on your way out, as I'd be most beholden to ya! Thanks!

P.S. I will kiss anyone who catches the Franz Kafke reference I threw into this~


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